rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

s. wilson + spring

sam's parents ingrained it in him from a young age: spring means spring cleaning

digging up the things he doesn't need anymore and taking them to the curb

starting something new

despite your protests, sam does most of the heavy lifting, insisting that he wants to feel the finally-warm air on his skin and in his lungs, so you return the favor by cleaning and reorganizing the newly opened space

in the shuffle, you find an old shoebox full of papers

all sam's, you realize, when you flip through them

polaroids from when you visited his family in new orleans a few novembers ago, smiling faces everywhere as everyone passed around homemade food

birthday cards sent from his nephews, some featuring pictures of the falcon drawn with marker on lined paper

concert programs, movie tickets, thank you letters from people in his support group

and your own handwritten sticky notes that you leave him on the kitchen counter before going to work, or in his bag after prepping his lunches

have an amazing day, i love you !!

good luck sammy, knock 'em dead :)

so many of them, maybe every one you've ever written

you find sam precariously stacking old furniture next to the driveway when you pull him inside, into the blissfully sweet air conditioning

sam laughs when you hand him a big glass of sweet tea but then kiss him silly before he can even drink it

you'll buy him a scrapbook, you tell him

so there's not a chance those memories could be thrown away.