#Sampson's Rock

[hldky]

Resting after a job well done? by National Library of Ireland on The Commons Via Flickr: When you can fill a gap in one fell swoop, why not take the opportunity? Mr. Sampson of Downpatrick, while building a drystone wall, pulled this rock out of the ground and filled a great big gap, saving him a whole lot of digging and lifting!! Well, he probably built the wall up on either side of the rock and used it in situ, but now he can rest after his labours! Photographer: Robert French Collection: Lawrence Photograph Collection Date: Circa 1865 - 1914 NLI Ref: L_CAB_05093 You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie

[cicadacelebration]

Another Commission I got done today >°<

[sweetonsugden]

Not Cross and his partner pulling rock paper scissors 🪨 📄 ✂️

Not me having SPN flashbacks 😂

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Yesterday was the seventh Leap-iversary of signing the mortgage contract on my house. And ...

Today (1 March, 2024) is the regular seventh anniversary of starting this Tumblr blog (though I've changed my user name a couple of times since then).

So this feels appropriate:

Lyrics:

Now, you can call me lucky, 'cause Lucky's my name Singin' and dancin', that's my game I never did a whole day's work in my life Still, everything seemed to turn out right Like a grasshopper on a summer's day I just love to play and pass the time away 'Cause I was born 'neath a lucky star They said I'd go far

Makin' people happy, that's my favorite game Lucky Seven is my natural name Slippin' and slidin' my whole life through Still I get everything done that I got to do 'Cause I was born 'neath a lucky star School is where you are? Aw, that's not hard Let me show you something

You multiply seven times one I got seven days to get that problem done Multiply seven times two Take 14 laughs when you're feelin' blue Multiply seven times three A 21-day vacation, you can play with me Multiply seven times four You got 28 days, that's-a one month more To pay the mortgage on your store, don't worry Somethin' will turn up! Yeah

Multiply seven times five I don't know how you did it, but man alive, that's 35 Multiply seven times six Grab a stick and make 42 clickity-clicks Multiply seven times seven Take 49 steps right up to seventh heaven Multiply seven times eight They got 56 flavors and I just can't wait Multiply seven times nine 63 musicians, all friends of mine Multiply seven times ten And that brings you right back to 70 again You know, I think that's important! There's a trick there somewhere

Multiply seven times 11 Even a rabbit knows that's seventy plus seven Multiply seven times 12 You got 84, and isn't that swell? I'm gonna try seven times 13 just for fun Seventy plus 21 Seven times 14 must be great Well exactly, that's-a seventy plus 28 Seven times 15, man alive That's seventy plus 35, 105! Man, this stuff is simple, no jive! You got it, and I gotta fly Excuse me folks, I'm sayin' goodbye I sure do thank you for the huckleberry pie Take it home, boys!

Remember, Lucky Seven Sampson, that's my natural-born name If you should ask me again, I'd have to tell you the same You wake up tomorrow, you'll be glad that I came 'Cause you'll be singin' one of the songs that I sang So keep a happy outlook and be good to your friends And maybe I'll pass this way again Maybe! Bye!

[aquaticxflames]

noel redding and his 1972 heavy psych band road that he formed after the experience's break up

i really love this band and i think more people need to know about it

[tybaltville]

at times i think that sampson would always think he's the loser brother and he'd get mad at that and start destroying things around him. He'd skate down the street and trip and fall and he'd huff and puff and without even processing it, he throws his skateboard, and kicks a trashcan in a fit of blind rage, while screaming. no one thought it was him, how could they? The fun-loving, yet "chill" Sampson Montague, thrashing out? Crying? Over what? Why? That can't be him?

But him, it was. In the height of his disarray, he wiped his nose, forcefully shutting his mouth (nothing but a whimper, akin to a hurt dog, was let out), grabbing his skateboard, and leaving. He didn't clean his mess, he couldn't have cared less anyways. He'd rather just travel aimlessly around Verona, travel until he goes into a cave, travel until the sun sets in one place, and rises in another. He'd travel, against the physical turmoil of his body, against his breathlessness, against his aching legs, because all of it is worth it when he's away.

It's peaceful when he's gone, and he knows it.

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Ellliot Sampson: You'll only have to perform the most basic of tasks. You've sent out mail before. Daffy: Nope. Elliot: Well, you've stapled before... Daffy: I have not. Ellliot: Surely you've used a paperclip. Daffy: Oh! You mean those cotton things you put in your ears? Elliot: Duck, how many fingers am I holding up? Daffy: Two! Elliot: You're hired.

[ironmanrecords]

Freestone - Once known as Giant Redwood, the acoustic duo are returning to live performance after 23 years.

Once known as Giant Redwood, a Birmingham based acoustic duo called Freestone are returning to live performance after 23 years. The group have a lot of new music on the way.Visit https://freestone.bandcamp.com Flow River Flow by Freestone All bookings: mark@ironmanrecords.co.uk Carpets and Canopies (Demo) by Freestone

[bullet-prooflove]

Sampson: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @b-bradshaw @caffeinatedwoman @dizzybee03 @burningpeachpuppy

Companion piece to:

Nine Months - Beau comes home from his deployment to a surprise revelation.

Scar Tissue - Beau and you discuss your decision to resign your commision.

Christmas Alone - Your marriage is stretched to breaking point when Beau gets a new posting.

Stop - Loss - Beau finds himself stuck between a rock and a hard place when the Navy enact the Stop-Loss Policy.

The thought of two years apart from Beau devastates you, it devastates him too. The idea of not being present in your life for that duration, well it’s the kind of thing that ends marriages. When he asks you if you want to separate he’s relieved when you say no because he’s not sure he can take the heartbreak.

“This isn’t your choice.” You remind him, your mouth brushing over his in that hotel room in Yuma. “You tried to leave for me and they decided to keep you.”

The issue becomes figuring out how to manage it. Beau’s essentially stuck in Arizona, running long training missions that require him to be on base, which means even if you try hybrid working from his residence, he’s still not going to be around.

“We’ll treat it as a long deployment.” You tell him, your fingertips ghosting along the line of his jaw. “We’ll match up our leave for the important occasions, book a call in at least once a week. We’ll find away to make it work.”

Your biggest problem is the empty house, waking up alone, spending the evening alone, sleeping alone it kills you. As much as you try to convince yourself this is just like the other deployments your heart knows it’s not.

The answer comes the form of a German Shepard called Sampson, the dog that Jenna brings over with her one night after Jake’s been deployed on mission.

“Are you training him?” You ask her as Sampson rushes towards you, Cujo in tow. You laugh as the dog sniffs you all over, tail thumping against the couch.

“No.” Jenna tells you as she takes up residence alongside of you. “He flunked out of training, he doesn’t have the temperament for it.”

“What does that even mean?” You ask her as you cradle Sampson’s face between your hands.

“He failed the bite exercise with the suit.” Jenna explains, her palm smoothing over the dog’s glossy coat. “He’s not aggressive enough for the military’s needs.”

“Poor baby.” You whisper to Sampson as he nuzzles your hand. “You’re a sweet boy aren’t you? You just want to love everybody don’t you?”

“He’s looking for someone to foster him until I find him a new home.” She tells you as Cujo curls up at her feet. “I thought he might be a good fit while Beau’s away, a little company in the evenings watching Yellowstone.”

“You think I’m lonely.” You say softly focusing on the dog.

“I know I am when Jake’s away.” Jenna admits as she picks up the remote and turns on the TV, selecting the channel for Tulsa King. “Without Cujo, I’d lose my damn mind, worrying about the mischief he gets himself into.

“We always wanted a dog but with all the deployments it was never a possibility.” You tell her as the show starts. Sampson sets his head in your lap and you scratch him behind the ears. “What do you think Sampson? Do you think we should give it a try?”

He barks his response and you can’t help but feel a lightness in your chest.

Having Sampson in your life, it helps. It’s not that you don’t miss Beau, it’s just that Sampson is an excellent distraction, he doesn’t allow you to get in your head too much. On the days that you do he lays on the couch with you or brings you his favourite toy to play with. The house starts to feel like a home again, especially with his things taking over.

“You know I’ve just realised his name is Sampson Simpson.” You tell Beau over Zoom call a few weeks later. Sampson is snuffling at the screen trying to work out where Beau’s voice is coming from.

“So you’re planning on adopting him.” Beau says, his mouth tipping up into a smile because this feels like another piece of his family fitting into place .

“No, we are planning on adopting him.” You inform Beau, gesturing between the two of you. “He clearly can’t wait to meet you, there’s nose marks all over this screen.”

“I can’t wait to meet him Ally.” Beau tells you as the dog butts the screen again, seeking out his voice. “I can’t wait to get home and spend a little time with the both of you.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[animatejournal]

Schoolhouse Rock: Lucky Seven Sampson Music: Bob Dorough | USA, 1973

[detournementsmineurs]

"Necklace" with rock crystal (circa 1800) and "Necklace with Pendant" in glass-paste (circa 1815) presented in “A History of Jewellery: Bedazzled (part 5: 19th Century)” by Beatriz Chadour-Sampson - International Jewellery Historian and Author - for the V&A Academy online, march 2024.

[rollingsins]

the drabble files, p3

p1 | p2 | p3

summary: Several years into the future, after a call from the Principal, you and Tara sit your son down for a talk.

warnings: Tara is (was) Ghostface.

word count: 1.5k.

a/n: future!fic, obviously set post all hers. for those of you who have gf!tara baby fever - bet you don't after this.

“Sit down,” You say, sternly, “This is serious.” 

A call from the school isn’t uncommon these days. Your son, Gabriel, barely twelve years old, is flowering into quite the young rebel. 

At first, it had been mostly harmless. Silly pranks pulled on his younger sister. Crude jokes shared with his friends in the back of your car. Arguing about chores. 

But you’ve never had the Principal himself call you in the middle of the day to complain before. 

And you know if you don’t nip it in the bud now, that flowering rebel will bloom into an absolute nightmare of a teenager. 

Gabriel looks back at you with wide eyes. 

He’s tall for his age, with long, floppy dark hair. He has Tara’s eyes, her easy smile, and has seemingly also inherited her utter lack of respect for any figure of authority. 

He eyes the seat opposite you, pursing his lips as he slinks into the chair, flipping his hair like a wannabe Justin Bieber. 

Tara sits beside you, lazy arm slung across the back of your chair. She knows her role well by now - back-up. The other arm in your chain of unity. 

“Fun-Mom” Gabriel sometimes called her, “Scary-Mom” when she got mad. 

Somehow, you always seemed to be known as “Un-Fun-Mom”, a title you couldn't' quite shake. 

You half dare him to try it now, but he only blinks back at you, as if he understands he’s pushed the boat too far this time. 

You tilt your head at him, silently fuming. Tara’s fingers brush against the back of your neck, a familiar technique Gabriel called ‘taming the beast’. You shake her off and swallow, leaning across the table at your moron of a son. 

“Mr. Sampson called this afternoon,” You say, voice heated, “He told me you called him something very rude in class. Is that true?” 

He blinks back at you with long, dark lashes. His eyes catch Tara’s, then he looks back to you. 

He shrugs, but it’s not as nonchalant as you know he hopes it is. 

He shrugs like he’s too scared to answer. 

You lean forward, eyes narrowing.

“He said you called him a 'argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t find his way between a woman’s legs if someone drew him a map made out of rocks.'” 

Gabriel swallows. 

You stare back at him, fire behind your eyes. 

It’s quiet for only a moment. Nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and the sharp intake of Gabriel’s breath. 

And then beside you, Tara snorts. 

It rumbles through the kitchen as if it’s a thunderstorm. 

Your head jerks over to Tara at the same time Gabriel’s eyes find her. 

You stare at her, furrows browed, a sharp wave of indignation flooding through you. You’re supposed to be a team and she’s shown her hand. 

Broken the chain of unity. 

But it doesn’t last long. Immediately, her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s done. 

She turns to you, eyes wide, like she’s just entered a ring with a tiger. Her face drains of color. Her hand slung across the back of your chair slips. 

You blink in quiet outrage and she sits up, swallowing. 

She steadies her expression, suddenly serious, but it’s too late. 

By the time your gaze shifts back to Gabriel, he’s smiling. 

The victory of making his Mom laugh has bloomed a shit-eating grin across his face. 

“You forgot bitchless,” He gloats, leaning forward, “I called him a bitchless argyle wearing troglodyte who couldn’t-�� 

“Gabriel Carpenter,” You hiss, slamming your hand down on the table, “This isn’t funny.” 

“Mom seems to think it is.” He says, voice snide. He leans back in his chair, as if this is all a carnival game and he’s just won a first place ribbon. 

Your nostrils flare. 

Out of your two children, Gabriel had always been the more difficult child. Loud, obnoxious, moody, temperamental. 

His looks aren’t the only thing he’s inherited from your wife. 

The “I don’t give a fuck” nature had come as an unfortunate package. 

It had been cute when he was a toddler. 

Not so much anymore. 

“Really?” You challenge, looking over to your wife, “Tara, do you think it’s funny Gabriel called his history teacher a “bitchless, argyle wearing troglodyte”?” 

Tara shakes her head, immediately. 

“No babe, of course not,” She placates you, reaching over to squeeze your hand. You glare at her until she turns to your son, “That isn’t funny Gabriel.” 

“But you laughed,” He protests, all confidence lost. 

“I wasn’t laughing at what you said, I was laughing at something funny I thought of in my head.” Tara says, rather unconvincingly. 

You roll your eyes. 

Tara pauses, side eyeing you a moment and then tilting her head towards Gabriel. 

“Where’d you’d even come up with that kind of insult anyway?” She asks, trying - and failing, not to sound interested.

Gabriel smirks. 

“From you, Mom,” He says, “It’s the way you talk about Grandpa.” 

Tara’s eyes widen. She looks over to you, a little afraid.

“Yes, well, that’s wrong of me,” She says, a little hastily, “You shouldn’t insult people, Gabe. Not to their face.” 

Gabriel’s face crinkles. 

“You mean I should just insult them behind their back?” He asks, a little confused. 

You pinch your nose. 

“No,” You stress, nudging your wife to be quiet before she makes the situation even worse, “You shouldn’t insult people at all. You’re going to apologize to Mr Sampson tomorrow and we’re all going to pray you don’t get suspended.” 

Gabriel sulks. 

“But he is a bitchless troglodyte,” He scowls, crossing his arms, “You should hear the way he talks to the girls in class. Like they’re too stupid to follow his lessons.” 

“That’s neither here nor there,” You say, firmly, “If you want to make a complaint about Mr Sampson you can do it properly, by talking to the principal.” 

You pause, furrowing your brow. 

“And stop saying “bitchless”, You add, “Where’d you learn that word anyway?” 

“It’s what Mom calls Aunt Mindy sometimes.” Gabriel answers, happily. 

You shoot another scowl towards your wife. 

She averts her gaze. 

“You’re grounded,” You tell your son, “Two weeks. No screentime, and you come straight home after school.”

Gabriel’s eyes widen, “But Ma-“ 

“Don’t argue with me, Gabriel, you’re in enough trouble as it is.” You say, voice hot. 

Gabriel blinks back at you. 

“Mom?” He looks at Tara, moon-eyed. 

“Don’t look at her, she’s not going to help you.” You snap, and Tara shifts uncomfortably. 

You look over to her, look pointed. 

She purses her lips, cowering under the fury in your gaze. 

“Mama’s right, Gabe, you can’t call people names. You’re grounded.” 

Gabriel looks over to her, betrayal in his eyes. 

“But-“ 

“No buts, now get upstairs and get your sister down for dinner before you get yourself - or me - in anymore trouble.” Tara mumbles. She’s not making eye contact with you, uncharacteristically avoidant. 

Gabriel folds his arms. 

“She’s your kid, get her yourself.” Gabriel glares. 

Your son thinks he has a fire, but you know your wife a little better than he does.

He's an ember and she's a forest fire.

You lean back, satisfied she’ll take over from here. 

Tara glares at him. 

“That’s another week grounded for talking back,” Tara growls. 

Gabriel’s eyes bulge. 

“You can’t do that!” He says, mouth falling open, eyes wide in all his pre-teen outrage. 

“Wanna make it four?” 

Gabriel frowns. His eyebrows pitch together in that way Tara’s do right before she’s about to throw a tantrum. 

He stares back at her as if she’s a traitor and stands, dragging his chair along the floor with a sharp whine to express his dissatisfaction. 

Usually, the two of them are thick as thieves. Tara and her little mini me. But Gabriel had made a critical error - he’d tried to pit your wife against you. 

A thick as thieves or no, mother and son or no - there’s no-ones team she’s on but yours. 

Gabriel leaves the table with a grumble, shooting daggers at her. He stomps to the bottom of the stairs and leans over the bannister. 

“Riley!” He calls, “Dinner!” 

“Go up and get her, Gabriel,” Tara snaps, “Am I speaking French?” 

He stomps up the stairs, dirty look in his eyes. 

You look over to her. She’s in Scary-Mom mode now, your son has inadvertently awoken the beast.

But as she looks over to you, her expression softens. 

She scoots her chair a little closer and curls up against you, not unlike an oddly affectionate panther. 

Her lips graze the side of your cheek before she presses a quick peck to the top of your head. 

Then she looks at you, eyes apologetic. Mournful. 

“I wasn’t undermining you, baby, I really was thinking of something funny in my head.” She says, so quickly the words jumble together. 

You consider this, and then squeezes her hand. 

You meet her lips in a soft kiss. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” You tell her, drawing back, “But thanks for backing me up.” 

“Always.” She murmurs. 

There’s a loud crash from the top of the stairs and then you hear your daughter scream out. 

“It’s mine, Gabriel!” She cries. 

“Don’t be such a baby, you had your turn.” Says Gabriel. 

You sigh. 

Tara stands with a growl. Her chair scrapes against the tile. You wince.

“Don’t kill them,” You say, sounding resigned. 

You stare over at the pot on the stove. The pasta is sure to be over cooked by now. Your Son would be in a mood for the rest of the night and now he'd gone and upset his sister.

“Don’t give me any ideas.” Tara grumbles, before she marches up the stairs. 

[blueknight20]

Blood-Sucker part 2

CecilxReader!superhero

Word Count:2,855

T/W: Broken bones, constant mention of blood, torture kind of, body horror,

!! I'M SO SORRY IF I MISSED ANYMORE, PLEASE JUST LET ME KNOW, SOME MAY HAVE SLIPPED!!

!Note!: The start is heavily impaired by “all i need” on 3AM

Info: Reader is basically a vampire with slight blood manipulation power, that isn't helpfully against super humans. This is of course the second part to the last story I made and as you can tell I love angst and putting characters in pain, so yeah, hope you enjoy. Also let's pretend this makes sense timewise. 

Background: This is taking place during the invincible war . Reader and Cecil have been dating for a couple of years now and reader is a reformed villain.

You had left Cecil by himself and it seemed that the GDA’s communications were down so you knew it couldn’t hurt to get some help while saving civilians so made your way to the Guardians of the Glopes headquarters. You were flying there as fast as you could and you were almost there till you felt someone slam against your body, its arms wrapping around your body, bear hugging you from behind. You tried to stop your bodies from flying while also squirming out of their grip. Then you heard a voice yelling your ear as you were free falling 

“Holy shit, I know you from my universe ! My dad killed you with the original Guardians of the Globe, you’re the one that was kind of married to Cecil right ?!” You instantly knew the voice and turned your head to see Invincible or at least a version of him whose mask was missing glasses and before you could say anything, you felt your body hit the rock of the mountain, falling all the way down until you finally broke through and hit the floor of the Guardians of Globe headquarters. 

You were face down with blood spilling out of your mouth, you could already tell that your ribs were broken on impact. You saw the new guardians looking at you with shocked looks on their face, you were going to crawl towards them before you felt a foot on your back.

“INVINCIBLE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING ?!” Immortal yelled but he was swiftly ignored as Invincible started to talk to you

“And just where do you think you’re going” He took his foot off your back and grabbed you by the back of the neck, lifting you up like a trophy in front of everyone. “We were just having fu-” He was cut off by you kicking backwards into his leg, it didn’t seem to cause much damage but it was enough from him to drop you, allowing you to fall from his grip and run over to the guardians while he recollected himself but you could hear he was…laughing ?

“Dude I can’t believe you just did that when I was ready to give you a quick death.” He laughed out before looking serious “I’ll just make sure it’s slow and painfully, maybe if Cecil is still alive when I kill him I’ll let him know how loud you screamed ” He started to fly towards you until Immoral flew his way as well, punching him which made him stumble back and allow shapesmith to wrap himself around him.

There were a few moments while Invincible was struggling to get out his skin that allowed Black Sampson and Kate to make their way to you, holding either side of you while you were trying to breathe but it was hard to catch your breath while blood was slowly pouring out of your mouth. Darkwing was throwing explosives while also disappearing into the shadows and this repeated for a little before Invincible finally broke out Shapsmith’s skin, grabbing what you believed to be his torso and ripped him apart as he yelling out something along the lines of “NO, I DON’T WANT TO NOT BE LIVING” before dropping to the floor lifelessly. Kate then left you, thinking she could maybe try her cards at doing some damage and you could’ve swore all you did was blink when you were left on the steps of the HQ but you must’ve past out, seeing as when you opened your Black sampson was passed out clearly injured, multiple kate’s were dead on the floor, and Immortal was trying to keep up with mark. 

You forced yourself to get up and fly over to Mark, punched him repeatedly when you finally got there but he was still sitting with that creepy ass smile on his face, it was so discouraging. He grabbed your hand, moving it out the way before grabbing you by your neck, slamming you into the ground, before lifting you up, you tried to kick your way out of his grip again no matter how much it hurt your broken ribs but you watched his fish pull back before punching a hole in your stomach and there was a moment of silence followed but a small ringing in your ear. He pulled his hand out of your stomach and you could see your blood coated his hand. 

You didn’t think it went all the way through but from the way Immortal's face looked, maybe it did, you felt him let go of your neck but when your boots hit the floor that was covered in your blood you couldn’t catch yourself and ended up slipping into the puddle. Your body felt numb and what made it worse wasn’t the fact that you couldn’t breath but also the fact all you started to be able to make out was his ear piercing laugh, before you closed your eye’s for what was more lightly the last time, you saw immortal slam into the Invincible which at least let you die with a smirk on your face knowing that obnoxious laughing wouldn’t be the last thing you heard.

When you opened your eyes there was a breathing mask on your face and bright lights over you that were blinding. Your memories hit you causing you to jump up, ripping the mask off your face and slightly move backwards in the bed you were in, not stopping till your back hit the wall. You were looking around trying to get a sense of where you were while hyperventilating but quickly regraded all those quick movements you just made when you felt a shooting pain in your stomach causing you to grab it. You slowly started to relax when you saw Donald standing next to you with a concerned look on his face.

“What happened..? How am I still…alive..?” Your attention was drawn away as you looked around the room to see it was basically covered in flowers, to be more specific they were ‘Dracula's kiss”, which weren’t your favorite but it was the flowers Cecil sent you whenever he was sorry for something, usually pairing them with a thoughtful note. You then realized it was Donald that was sitting in front of you and couldn’t help but ask “Am I dead” Which caused a worried look to take over is face and waved his arms to indicate ‘no’

“My goddess no, you're in the GDA’s hospital, after your encounter with an alternate Invincible, it seems we got there just in time, you stopped breathing but we were able to bring you back allowing us to fix the hole that was made in your stomach as well as of course fix your broken rips with the resources we had, you’d lost a lot of blood but we were able to keep your condition stable” You looked at the hundreds of flowers on your floor and pointed to them.

“Cecil ?” You knew Donald would understand what you were asking, he always did and although the two of you relationship was always platonic you were close, he’d help you plan surprises for Cecil and he was who you talked to whenever Cecil was busy in one of the meetings.

“After the disappearance of all the Invincibles, there was another Viltrumite attack, one stronger than we’ve ever seen, Cecil has had his hand full.” There was a hit of something in his voice but  you slowly nodded while looking down before you narrowed your eyes and looked up at the flowers again, what was he sorry for this time. You looked back up at Donald.

“But h-he’s been here right ? ” you breathed out, you saw Donald's hesitation to answer and chuckled a little before repeating yourself. “Donald..he came to see me, right ?”

“When I brought it up to him…he said that he just couldn’t and asked me to not bring it up again” You raised your eyebrows, trying now to blow up, you stayed quiet and pull the plugs in your arm out and standing up causing Donald to run over and allow you to put your weight onto him, you walked out of the room and made your way to Cecil’s office, opening the door yourself. The sudden sound must have caused him to look up from whatever he was writing on, you saw his eyes widen when he saw you and he stood up.

“What are you doing here ? You should be resting” Cecil stated simply 

“Yeah I really should be ” You made your way over to his desk, standing in front of it, staring at him. “Where the fuck were you ? I wake up after how long, Donald ?” You turned around asking him

“A week, ma’am” He stated quickly, causing you to turn back to Cecil.

“I was in a week-long coma and you can teleport to come see me at any time and you just can’t be bothered to?”

“I sent flowers and Donald to keep an eye on you.” You could tell he was annoyed and trying to de-escalate you, which just pissed you off more.

“WELL I’M NOT FUCKING DONALD OR THE FUCKING FLOWERS, I’M FUCKING YOU” You yelled, slamming your hand onto the talk, leaving an imprint of your hand on his table, you quickly realized you needed to calm down when you saw how scared they both looked or maybe they were surprised or maybe you just didn’t care, you let out a light chuckle. “Cecil, I almost fucking died and you weren’t there. I have always defended you and stuck in your corner when no one else did and they looked at you like you were crazy. I've risked my life for you more times than I can count on our hands combined. I’ve never pressured you into anything or rushed you into a commitment or relationship or even a fucking marriage. I never pressed you when you missed a date without saying anything, leaving me looking like an idiot because I truly believe that maybe you felt at least something towards me, you had to, we’ve been together for years.” When you were finally done you tried to search his face for anything, hoping that he would show you some type of remorse but he looked so unfazed by everything you said. You let out a chuckle in disbelief, putting a hand on your head. “God, I should’ve known..”

“We.will.talk.about.this.later” He started talking through his teeth, had this bossy authoritative tone, like you were some kid he was scolding but he sighed and calmly said. “I’m busy right now, go back to your hospital bed and we will talk later.” Cecil then sat back down in his chair and started signing papers again. You know you weren’t going to cry but you’d bring lying if you said his nonchalant attitude didn’t piss you off so bad you wanted to pull his head off but instead you said nothing, you held your head high, turn and walked out the door, you knew you weren’t going back to that hospital room fill the the brim with Cecil’s “I’m sorry I can’t visit you when you almost died just because even we are basically married ” flowers but you didn’t know where you go, the two of you were basically living together when he wasn’t sleeping at work. You could hear Donald's steps behind you, he was trying to catch up but all you really wanted to focus on was not having a panic attack. You put a hand on the wall of the hall to try and stabilize yourself and catch your breath, you saw Donald come around into your view, he went to help you stand but you put your hand up in a stop hand motion causing him to just look at you.

“I just have a headache and need some air, just please give me some space, thank you” You continued on your way to the elevator and pressed the button to go to the roof, when you stepped out of the elevator and the air hit your face, it felt so freeing, you took a seat on the side of the elevator outside structure, letting your head rest on the buildings wall. When you got there the sun was just starting to go down but by the time you heard the elevator ding and the door open, it was dark and there were stars in the sky. You looked over to see Cecil walk around the corner causing you to sigh. You knew he was stubborn and this sexy old man was going to tell you about how you’re acting like a child. He took a seat next to you and rested his head against the wall too , closing his eyes, letting out a sigh. You stayed like this for a bit until the anticipation of getting yelled at was too much.

“Don’t you have some scolding to do?” You looked over at him, expecting him to say something.

“I’m so sorry, I was wrong” came out of Cecil’s mouth causing you to immediately sit up which caused a sharp pain to hit in your stomach which made you suck in air which also made Cecil sit up, grabbing your shoulder, “Be careful.”

“What did you say to me just now ?!” Your eyebrows were raised and you had a slight smile. He sighed seeing how it was important to you. 

“I was just scared I was going to lose you.” You immediately were about to say something but you were interrupted “Just stop…I just need you to know that I care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit you…I’ve never felt so fucking helpless, and now you’re sitting here having to heal from my mistake, I should have prepared better..I should been able to protect you better and I..” He stopped himself, moving the hand on your shoulder before rubbing it hand on his head and let out a humorless chuckle like he couldn’t believe himself  “..I’ve never been a man for many words but I do care for you and I need you to know that.”

You were completely speechless, this had been the most romantic thing he’d said in the whole time you've known with each other. You hand touched his cheek and you felt him lean into it, you pressed your lips against him, slowly opening your mouth and he followed your lead putting a hand on the back of your neck. You slowly laid back into the roof’s floor, allowing Cecil to hover over you settling in between your legs, the kiss not breaking, you could tell he was trying not to hurt you which was funny, he treated you like you were fragile and could break at any second which was very much the opposite, if you even pushed him too hard you could break a bone. 

The kiss continued for a while, you felt Cecil’s hand wrap around your waist then he pulled away for air, both of you slightly panting while making eye contact with each other. Cecil knew two of you couldn't, at least not right now, you were still healing from wounds and having sex wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do at the moment no matter how much he really wanted to especially with your mouth slightly open basically urging him to keep going and your glossy, barely open eyes basically begging him to just fuck you on this roof. He knew couldn’t just yet, that's what he kept telling himself in his head, which was cut off by Donald coming on his earpiece.

“Sir, y/n is needed in her room for tests” You could hear him since Cecil if you were so close to each other, he gave a quick, “Okay” for getting up and helping you up. The both of you made your way back to your room, did a bunch of test which in your option was completely useless, they were acting like your were going to burst at the seems, truly it was fucking annoying, it was made better by the fact that Cecil stayed by your side for everything and when it was finally over you were able to lay down in your hospital bed, you looked to Cecil who was standing next to your bed, looking down at you.

“Come lay with me..” He had a look that told you he was more than likely weighing the pros and cons, the responsibilities that came with him taking a quick hour nap with you. He had made up his mind, taking his place next to you as you both squeezed into the bed, acting as if this twin bed was really supposed to fit two grown adults. He laid on his back which allowed you to rest your head on his chest, wrapping a hand on his stomach, while he wrapped his arm under your neck and hand on your waist. You’d think after a week long coma you’d be well rested but fuck you were exhausted and before anyone knew it, the two of you were knocked out.

Author note: I kind of hate this but idk, I didn’t want reader to seem too pathetic or weak or for Cecil to seems out of character but it’s so hard when we don’t really see him with people he loves other than Donald. I got to where reader wakes up and my mind went blank. But I have “prequel thing” of mostly office dates in a google doc plus when they first got together that I was thing of posting since both these parts didn't have smut . But I was planning on writing something with an Invincible x Spiderman inspired reader just because I think that’s such a cute idea and I read about it in someone else’s fanfic that I’ll credit if I ever go through with it or maybe Invincible x Zatanna inspired reader.

[currentfandomkick]

So. Back after getting sick and mostly recovered, and able to write again. This one has been editted a few times, and yes the visit continues to next part. Skulker narrates again as Sampson is difficult to write—yes she’s getting more narration at somepoint i hope, but our fave gorilla is not cooperating, and Danny is not awake.

Masterlist Here

Enjoy the contained(?) chaos.

Danny’s awful hospital visit pt 1

Danny was tired. So, so tired. But he had to patrol. Taco’s antics didnt stop his other rogues from existing or causing problems. But whatever power that be who chose mercy? He was sooo making fudge for tomorrow, and setting up an altar.

All hail ‘no one else on patrol’ god(s). May their pillows be their preferred temperature at all times, their food just right and the ambiance absolute. Or whatever.

That pull was back, the one he always got by the portal and let it lead him home.

He barely clocked the heat from the water or pressure change. Just bounced a bit before going to Sleep Spot and curling up.

Some Asshole grabbed him and he bit them. Not hard enough to take off a limb, sadly. He was too tired for that.

Then he was in Warm Arms like Dad, but Dad isnt purple…

Whatever, Nocturne take the wheel. he’s sleepy

There was some jostling, but nothing he couldn’t sleep through.

Then he was being pulled. And there was screaming and yelling but he didn’t understand ANYTHING.

His head hurt. His tail hurthurt.

His eyes got too hot in Sampson’s arms and he Wailed.

The yelling stopped and he clung to Not Dad But Close Enough.

There were too many people in there.

But they stopped making sounds. He curled back into Not Dad’s arms and went back to sleep as Safe Soft was talking somewhere and would keep him safesafesafe

—-

Skulker was true to his word, and recruited Ember, Kitty and Johnny 13 in distracting the ectopus assaulting the Whelp.

Seeing Ember’s Bandmates throwing ectoblasts outside of trickshots and dares was an oddity. And a good reminder of why one does not enrage a performer: their fans and allies come in droves of untrained and un-to-semi-tapped potential destruction.

Skulker was preoccupied with keeping Sampson invisible in the Aquarium to observe their skills firsthand, despite requesting their aide.

The Whelp floated in, shrunk to a small, finned creature who’s tail was far too fancy for his liking as he flopped into the water.

One of the nursing sharks swam with him and her calf, nudging him to something Skulker didn’t see.

He moved to stop them.

Sampson snarled and hit her chest. She became especially loud he moved to grab the brat, and it was a miracle the Whelp didn’t hear them.

He tried to glare back at her, only to get a face full of protectLOVEmineSoncherishSafesafesafe

Right…he had to wait for the mother to give the go ahead before nabbing the overgrown Newly Dead. Liminals.

The crashing and slips of tentacle from the far walls were far from comforting, but there wasn’t a ghost in existence dumb enough to test a parent regarding their young. Not that he’d come across and survived.

Sampson circled the tanks with low huffs as she inspected the one with the whelp hiding in the rock crevice she could not get into, given the who-knew-how-many-galleons tank and her inability to breathe underwater, unlike her fishy son.

Once Sampson deemed it ‘safe’; she moved to the closest part of the tanks and banged her chest until her fist flew through it. She moved through the glass slowly compared to the Whelp, but she is still learning to use more than just her strength if he wasn’t mistaken. A few moments later she came out cradling she her sleeping son, mertail hanging limply and softly biting his forefins, despite her best efforts to move his teething elsewhere.

Ember’s guitar rocked the building as Skulker guided Sampson out and kept them invisible. The last thing the whelp needed was someone connecting Topo’s assaults with all of his identities and alter egos.

Skulker increasingly regretted not getting to mount this Taco on a hospital wall for the time being. Especially as the ectopus made another wild grab, only for shadow to phase through him and get hit with a falling beam that stuck.

Safekeeping the Whelp first, debate ending the ectopus later. Hunting a ghost that hasn’t even had their first shedding this viscously, to the point of soul regressions, was beyond poor taste… what are the chances the hospital would help him press charges in the Greater Courts over this? Low. Very low…

Kitty’s warcry brought him back to reality. Johnny and Shadow tailed Taco with Ember hot on his heels.

The sight soothed some of his wrath. The whelp is a bastard, but no new ghost deserves a third of what Taco is putting Phantom through, stressed to soul regression…

And the ectopus has the gaul to keep going.

Leading Sampson to the Whelp’s haunt wasn’t as difficult when she remembered to stay invisible. Key word: when.

The Whelp managing to turn them both intangible in his sleep was an unexpected boon, especially when passing a group of living teens.

The mention of the Whelp’s darker frightmate hunting down whatever killed Sampson and the ‘baby mer’ were not his problem.

Managing to get into the Whelp’s familial haunt was annoying as usual—but he is far better at dodging than the whelp and the amateur hunters who can’t even skin a Newly Dead.

Pathetic, but not unexpected from living non-liminals playing with the Realms.

Getting into the basement to the portal was rather simple given the whelp’s sister distracting her parents with some essay of hers. And the thumbs up she gave him…

He had a feeling for all she can’t get a ghost’s name right, she will be just as much of a problem once he gives the whelp his necessary skinning.

Carbon existences, he’d never understand them and their ‘physical needs’.

The portal felt odd with the Whelp. A deathwail and a choking sensation stuck itself to his real body, not his prosthetic.

He shook it off, only to see Sampson flying through walls in the Zone. That was a nightmare to wrangle and direct.

“Sampson no—that is not the way to the Healers! This way, follow me or so help me I will carry you to the hospital and let you explain the whelp’s condition!”

Sampson bared her teeth before acquiescing. forced the time being at least. Wandering off was expected, but unwelcome. After the diagnosis they could do that. Not before.

Who knows if she’ll wander into a portal with the whelp? And that would be as good as an ending sentence for those two.

Skulker almost cried when the hospital specializing in pre-shed ghostlings came into view, and understood the what was going on before he could try and explain.

“Nurse Practitioner Amira, another Unshed—mentioned Phantom may be forced to come here soon, i take it you are his Chosen Parent?”

“Not me,” Skulker threw his hands up. “This one, Sampson.”

Amira smiled a bit too sharply for a moment. “Ah. A liminal of another species, in charge of the unshed halfa… can she understand ghost speak?”

Sampson snarled in response, while rocking the Whelp.

“Understood. I can take the halfa into an examine room. Are you available to translate as needed? Liminals are more difficult to understand.”

Sampson glared at him.

He caved. “I am available for this visit, future ones uncertain. I do have a haunt to manage and others i need to tend to, besides the whelp.”

Masterlist here

Tags: @skulld3mort-1fan @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123 @the-autistic-spider @laurcad123 @just-lurking-here-dont-mind-meh @atinygracie @stars-obsession-pit @wanderwithwings @aibhilin-atibeka @lovelesslittleloser @shadowkatt99 @pastelpigeonparadise

If someone can tag @just-lurking-here-dont-mind-meh, @atinygracie and @wanderwithwings thanks 🙏 for some reason some usernames refuse to tag on my end/let me confirm the tag.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Elementary, My Dear • Three Is A Magic Number • The Four Legged Zoo • Ready Or Not, Here I Come • My Hero, Zero • I Got Six • Lucky Seven Sampson • Figure Eight • Naughty Number Nine • The Good Eleven • Little Twelvetoes

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