#||..asks | sam i am

[spiriituma]

@madgirltm​ asked: “You know what your problem is? You want to think of yourself as the good guy.” @ sam i am

“...Y’know what YOUR problem is?” The who jumps down from the crate he’d been standing on and strides over to the girl. Rarely is there ever a frown of any sort on Sam’s face, but Alice has certainly PUSHED things just a HAIR TOO FAR. “YOUR problem is that you take one look at a guy YOU BARELY EVEN KNOW, and you decide you’re the expert on what’s goin’ on inside HIS head.”

Sam HUFFS, arms folding over his chest, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’m not the good guy. I’ve NEVER thought of myself as the GOOD GUY. 

GOOD GUYS don’t do what I do.”

[spiriituma]

@nobodytm​ asked: ‘    get  used  to  some  turbulence,  you  little  bastard.    ’ @ sam

WHY DID IT NOT SURPRISE HIM THAT SOMEONE HAD HIRED A HITMAN TO TAKE HIM OUT? He’s CLINGING to the side of the building, one furry hand on the railing and the other CLUTCHING his signature red hat. How this guy had managed to get a GIANT FAN onto the TOP FLOOR OF AN APARTMENT BUILDING was totally beyond him.

“THIS IS ALL... A BIT... MUCH... DON’T’CHA THINK, BUDDY?!”

[spiriituma]

@magicxecustos​ asked: © - put a hand on my muse’s back to steer them somewhere | for Sam

HE TRIED NOT TO GET IN ANYONE’S WAY AROUND THE HOUSE. Honestly, he did. Sometimes, though, he just COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF-- Admittedly, Sam had been rather LONELY back home, not particularly having many people for him to TURN TO or to spend time with. The Who DID fear that there were times he came off as ANNOYING, however... not that he actually had any evidence to PROVE that.

The day so far had been spent FOLLOWING SHERI AROUND, helping her with household chores and gawking at the SPELLS AND POTIONS she was working on, something that he’d NEVER SEEN BEFORE. His world was full of fantabulous inventions, but MAGIC? Nah, MAGIC wasn’t a thing. Not wanting to get too close for fear of DISTURBING her, Sam watched at a distance as she worked, occasionally popping up onto his TIP-TOES to see what Sheri was doing. 

Eventually, she seemed to NOTICE his curiosity from afar, crossing the room to place a hand on his upper back, GUIDING him closer to her work. The little Who slid on his heels across the hardwood floor, just a tiny bit NERVOUS about the goings on, yet EXCITED to finally feel like A PART OF IT.

[spiriituma]

@hiiighcpes​ asked: ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them || for Sam

SAM WAS QUITE USED TO BEING SCOOPED UP, much like one would carry around a RAG DOLL, more often than not. Living with Sheri and the Afton’s hadn’t changed this AT ALL-- in fact, it seemed like humans REALLY ENJOYED picking up small, fuzzy things. The Who didn’t let out a peep as Connor picked him up and placed him onto his shoulders; Sam wasn’t exactly a fan of heights, but this? This was cool! And comfortable.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he crossed his arms over Connor’s head, resting his cheek against them as Connor walked.

[spiriituma]

@hiiighcpes​ asked: “Do Whos fuck?” | @ sam,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“...”

Sam just STARES blankly up at Connor, brows furrowed in confusion, lips slightly pursed. He’s HEARD THAT WORD used a lot in this place, in various situations (it seemed to be a CURSE along the lines of ‘YIP’ in his world, though yip had many meanings.)

“Do Whos... FUCK...” It’s not even a question anymore as it falls off his tongue, the little Who holding a hand to his chin in thought, yellow furred foot tapping on the ground. “Do WHOS fuck...? DO Whos fuck...?” 

A FEW MINUTES PASS of Sam pondering this question before he looks back up at Connor and shrugs. “I dunno. Couldn’t even tell ya what that word means, buddy.” 

[spiriituma]

@hiiighcpes​ asked: “I had a crisis.” | @ sam, okay im done IHDSOISHOIDS

“...I noticed.” The Who stood with his back to the bed, palms pressed to the top of the mattress, and hoisted himself up, flopping down next to Connor. He’s quiet for a minute, twiddling his furry yellow thumbs together as he stares down at the ground, swinging his feet. Brows raise as he gazes back up at Connor, concerned for the boy’s well being. “Are you... okay now, though?”

[spiriituma]

@bornfiighter​ asked: “ stop messing with your IV. ” | @ sam :c

“I--” There’s a PAUSE, he stops PICKING at the bandage on his arm, sighing heavily as he looks down and away from Cora. “...I’M SORRY.” All of this is NEW to him; he’s never been in a situation like this, and if he were honest, the experience was ALL THE MORE TERRIFYING due to the fact that not a single human knew ANYTHING about what he was. (There were no Whos where he’d ended up, which DEFINITELY meant no WHO DOCTORS.)

Sam hunkers down further into the bed, beneath the covers. SCARED AND EMBARRASSED don’t even begin to describe what he’s feeling, but it’s a start. His voice is quiet, almost gravelly in tone. “I just... don’t LIKE IT. It feels really WEIRD.”