“What’s going on?” you asked, staring hard at Sam over the rim of your coffee mug.
He put his spoon back into his bowl of cereal. “What?”
“Something’s going on,” you said, peering at him intensely with your eyes narrowed.
Sam shook his head a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to turn back to the paper in front of him on the counter.
You tapped your fingernails on the counter. “Fine. Don’t say anything and make me worry...” He cocked an eyebrow at you but stayed silent.
You let out a huff. “Sam, I know when you aren’t telling me something, okay? I can feel it. So, what. is it.”
He met your eyes again and tried to give you his best and most convincing incredulous look. “There’s nothing—”
“Don’t lie! What’s going on?!” you interrupted him.
He let out a wry laugh and put his elbows up on the counter, rubbing his hands over his face. “You’re ruining this!” he laughed. You shot him a questioning look. “I was going to surprise you but—seems like you’re already onto me. I’m taking you on a trip next week. Just the two of us. It was going to be a big surprise.”
You grinned, leaning in toward him a little on the counter. “Oh? Vacation? Just you and me?”
Sam nodded, smiling good-naturedly. “Mhm.”
You sipped your coffee, looking excited and satisfied. “You know I don’t do well with surprises... Remember that case in Ohio?”
Sam laughed. “The vamp? This is a little different than finding a vampire laying in wait to ambush you... At least I hope you’re not about to chop off my head.” He shot you an amused look.
“That all depends,” you said, warming your hands on your mug. “Where are we going?”
Sam smiled fondly at you. “Anywhere you want.”
Prompt: “Fine. Don’t say anything and make me worry.”
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I'm pretty sure if the animorphs were up here in canada they'd totally win. Witlle visser three getting trampled by a moose.
As a non-Canadian, I will happily agree!
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held a man's helmet up and shook it at the crowd like it was a war trophy and then went and had a popcorn party for the last 5 minutes of the game
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OrangeJuiceVerse has fully taken over my brain. I was at bar trivia tonight with the gang (bc it’s Thursday where the hell else would we be) and there was a group of four guys whose team name was “Moose” and my mind completely OrangeJacked their entire situation.
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whenever hannibal talks about will i feel embarrassed for him like arent u supposed to be a serial killer and not a schoolboy with a little crush
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“When was the last time you ate something?” Sam asked, stopping beside you at the table where you were penned in among notebooks and papers and leather-bound volumes with titles he couldn’t even read.
“Hmm?” You were scribbling something down and didn’t even look up at him. “He’s in the other room, I think,” you said vaguely, waving a hand toward the library.
Sam frowned. “That is not at all what I asked.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Y/N—you should take a break.”
You still didn’t seem to have heard him. Sam retreated to the kitchen and came back with a sandwich and glass of ice water, along with some herbal tea. He set them on the one clear bit of table beside you. You were murmuring to yourself in Latin now, frantically flipping through a particularly dusty volume.
Sam leaned down and swept your hair away from your neck and kissed the soft skin just below your ear. You froze. Now that, got your attention. You turned and looked up at him with a questioning, somewhat struck look, as if only just realizing he was there. He laughed a little and smiled at you.
“You need to eat and drink some water,” he said. He pulled out the chair next to you. “And I’m hoping I can convince you to take at least a short break? You’ve been at this all day.” He nudged the sandwich and cups closer to you and you sighed, giving him a somewhat sheepish smile.
“What would I do without you?” You reached for the ice water first. “You’re always taking care of me.”
Sam smiled at you warmly, relieved he’d finally gotten through to you. “Well, I’m your husband. It’s my job.”
You eyed the sandwich. “Hey, maybe after I eat... I think a hot shower would help. You could—I don’t know—help me with that too?” you suggested, one corner of your mouth flicking up coyly. Then Sam watched with a flush of heat as you bit your bottom lip.
Sam smiled again and his hand landed on your thigh gently beneath the table. “I’m a little ashamed I didn’t suggest it myself.”
Prompt: “Well, I’m your husband. It’s my job.”
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