#[sam & eloise: desert flowers & dandelions]

[xgoldxnhour]

• "There’s glitter in my hair, on my clothes, and somehow, in my coffee. This is chaos." (Sam - Redwood verse)

@mettleborn

The sight before them looks like the North Pole ransacked their place and threw up Christmas cheer and tinsel. One day normal, the next day, it was as if she was possessed by the Spirit of Christmas and finally returned from the yuletide Poltergeist.

The Silas home is decked to the nines with lights, stockings, ribbon and a homemade garland out of paper rings. Even Seamus and Pumpkin were alotted with ribbon collars and little felt reindeer antlers. As if coming to, Eloise looks around at her surroundings, seeing that the Sheriff was indeed covered in glitter. Sucking her lips ins, El tries to keep herself from laughing, failing miserably as usual as she reaches to cover her mouth. All she can express are her muffled snorts and giggles.

"Well, aren't you festive." She hums, biting down her lip with a squinted apologetic look. "I may have gone a smidge overboard." Reaching to ruffle through his hair, she's a soft mist of fake snow and glitter, forcing her into another puddle of laughter.

"I'm sorry--can I..." Reaching into her pocket, guessing that Sam only assumes will be met with more glitter, El pulls out a plant wrapped in ribbon. "--Make it up to you with some pocket mistletoe?"

[xgoldxnhour]

They close early for the night—no one seems to mind and understands the urgency with recent news of missing girls and gruesome murders. No complaints tonight, a rarity in of itself, as the key turns to the right to initiate the locking mechanism. “See you at home.” The sentiment so easily rolls off the tongue, though not completely concrete as they don’t necessarily live together but spend more nights with each other than not. The couple bid their goodbyes for only ten minutes until tired roll over the gravel of his driveway. Quick shower and settling in bed with a movie, lazy kisses turn something far more fierce and needy for hours to come—a familiar station at his residence. As always, things fall into a welcome, passionate rhythm, met with long kisses, teasing nips and symphonic sounds until the two could fall asleep at mere closed eyes.

She’d be lying if the anxiety that she hid before didn’t torment her dreams. It felt unfair as merely a vicarious observer of the cases, but even an outsider perspective couldn’t extinguish the unease. It was one of those dreams where you wake up from sleep, assuming you’ve awaken altogether. The bed was empty, even seen in the pitch darkness as a rumbling of clanking glass and footsteps were heard outside the door. Either Sam was getting a drink of water or Pumpkin found his way in the pantry again. El couldn’t remember getting out of bed until she was suddenly in the hallway like pockets of time blurred and erased altogether. The walls seemed to elongate as she walked, forcing tunnel vision in this quasi-layout of the cabin. Something didn’t seem right but that never seemed to cross one’s mind in a dream.

Her feet dragged like cement, the noises growing louder as she nears. Finally, when she enters the kitchen, it’s eerily quiet—the clamoring silence. The only thing heard was the hammering of her own heartbeat and the quickening of her breath. “Sam?” She calls, but no noise pierces the air. Or if it did, it was muffled as if drowned in water. The blood rushes in her head, heartbeat now hammering as everything inside pleads for her to run—do not move any closer. Against all intuition, El moves closer, the creaks beneath her feet echoing as if pots and pans were thrown on the ground. Her heart lurches, nearing combustion as when she turns the turner of the counter, all she sees is red.

Pools of blood paint the hardwood floor, a twisted, demented imitation of a Jackson Pollock. Hand prints, smeared clawing of desperation reveals evidence of a tortured struggle. And there, slumped over in the corner…

She turns to vomit, but all that lurches is nothing but dry heaves. If there’s a scream or wailing, she couldn’t hear it, practically stumbling and slipping on the floor. That’s when the footsteps near again behind her, inching closer. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t turn her head or move away. A hand snatches at her neck, grasping so tightly against her chin that it might break under the force. “Take one last look, precious. You won’t be making the same mistake—you won’t find me.” And then there was snap and she jolted awake, hands gripping the sheets. It was barely sunrise as she turns to see Sam sound asleep beside her, his breath against her shoulder. Swallowing her fear, El turns to curl closer into his reach, enveloped into an embrace.

She doesn’t remember falling back asleep until she’s roused awake to bright morning light and that oh, so charming smile. A sweet aroma of blueberry wafts her senses, dispelling whatever anxiety remained. He’s here, he’s safe. “Morning yourself.” She hums with a stretch, aching joints and muscles cracking at the exertion, following by a soft groan of relief. Rubbing at her eyes, slowly El pushes herself up into a sitting position, cringing only slightly as the soreness settles. “After last night, ravenous.” She squints happily and leans to play a soft morning kiss against his lips. “Y’know, Sam. I think you may have a future as an entrepreneur. Could host a bed and breakfast. But only if you sleep with your resident and that resident is me. So, honestly, probably a poor investment on your part.” Her small widens, nose crinkling into that trademark look of hers. “Thank ya kindly.” Welcoming the feastful tray, she pats his spot for him to sit, excited to share the space once again.

It takes a moment for her to find the stomach before taking a bite. “Fuck me, it’s so good.” She mumbles, mouthful of pancake.

What she would give to take away his strife—his guilt that isn’t his to carry. To go back to a time before fear cursed this town and threaded itself into its infrastructure. Cases like these always felt far away, something on the news or some true crime podcast, but never outside your front door. The haunting part was who. With a town that knows just about anybody and hell, they’ve got their own problems but a question of torturous murder was never one of them. It keeps her up at night, thinking about the girls taken and those possibly to come—but as a girl who never considered herself all that religious, she prays that the list ends tonight. Naive ignorance but any other thought process would surely send her into psychosis. Lock her doors and never step foot back out until that bastard is locked away or scorched from his sin. Their home, these people, along with their Sheriff deserved better.

Blueberry was her favorite. The answer felt like a no brainer. It wasn’t a matter of needing protection or damsel nonsense (though there’s nothing wrong with any of that, just wasn’t her). It was a both a peace of mind for both parties. So neither have to sleep alone or worry themselves worn about the other. El hums softly, cheek resting against his chest. “Well, if there’s pancakes…how could I say no.” There’s very little she could say no to when it came to Sam Silas. He’s turned a stubborn girl willing. She was without a doubt joyously and unquestionably in love with him. Perhaps that’s what made all this helter skelter business just a little bit easier. Someone to hold and lie with at the end of the day. Someone to kiss away tears and fears of the like. It might’ve sounded ironic but it was nice—worrying about someone—in a way. It meant that they had your heart and were willing to share theirs. So even behind locked doors, weapons at your bedside and guard dogs, there he was to melt the fear away, even for just a moment.

“Don’t think the kids will mind either.” She giggles with eyes closed. By kids, she meant their little clingy babes waiting by the door tires roll over gravel. Seamus and Pumpkin. But the joke brings another sense of lighthearted wonder—that one day, two could turn into three or four or five or hell, even six. Little curly haired blondes and gingers running around. They’ve talked about it a little with glasses of wine or whiskey, sitting on the rug as a vinyl plays in the background. It seems like poor time to be thinking about such simple fantasy, but maybe it’s exactly the hope needed. It’s just that for now. Hopes. There’s no need to rush anything, but the thought is nice. That there will a time after this fearsome misery. That this town could be safe once again, a place you’d want to settle down and raise your kids in.

It’s then when El looks up into his cerulean gaze with another soft smile. She reaches to hold his cheeks and brings his head down slightly so she can kiss his forehead, down his nose and finally tenderly against his lips—finally resting her forehead back against his. “Hey. I love you.” Her voice is only but a whisper even in this near vacant bar, it’s only for him to hear. Just for them. “You somehow make me feel…brave…yet safe. And I really hope you…catch this rat bastard and…kick his ass…” There’s other words on her mind but could used in a court of law—like the fact that she’d put up a hard fight if ever in the position.

But it only added to what she said about him helping her feel brave. And she could only hope that she somehow makes him feel the same.

“I just wanted you to know that you mean everything to me.” Whether it’s the alcohol or somber, she’s feeling awfully sentimental. And with this devil around, now’s the time to tell your loved ones every wonderful thing that lays on your heart..

[mettleborn-a]

Journal Entry. 

Summer; this time of year, the air is hot, humid and unbearably thick, but in the cab of my truck, it always remains cool and fresh. The air conditioning in my pickup may annoyingly hum and tick sometimes, but that day it kept the heat from wilting us, as we drove down a dirt road edged with Redwoods; trees, that to me, have always seemed as old as time itself. Strangely they seemed to frame our journey, as if they had parted like the seas did for Moses, graciously allowing us to pass through them. I thought it cruel really, the way the road seemed to cut so brutally between them, keeping them separated either side of us. Still, it brought me comfort to know that their roots still touched beneath us, in places we simply couldn’t see. As you messed around with the stereo, your hand briefly brushed mine and I thought about it then - how we too were once similarly separated, on different roads until we suddenly intersected – we’ve been entwined ever since, just like the roots of the Redwoods.

Noticing dead bugs spread across our windscreen like fatal constellations, I sprayed some cleaner and smiled as I caught the synthetic scent of cherry – your choice. I thought it might be a sickly scent and much too sweet but you swore it was what you wanted when we drove into the gas station. Passionately you declared your love for sweet things and in that moment, I hoped with all my being you considered me one of those things.

We drove on and with your bare knees pressed up against the dash, you spoke about how the sun looks when it hits my hair – a crown of fire; auburn I was blessed with by a Mother I never met. As a child I was taunted for it; for that mark of fierce Irishness and the freckles that littered me, but when you look at me the way you uniquely do, I feel only pride for it; what a strange thing it is to be appreciated like this. You called me your moon last night in the back of the pickup, where we both lay, wrapped up warm as babes, our thick blankets shielding us from the bitter bite of the cold night. If I am your gravity, then surely you are my sun, because I have never known warmth such as this and light, so much light it illuminates everything in my life with a luminescence that reaches even my darkest corners.

To me you are desert flowers; growing beautiful, wild and in bright multitudes of colour and while sometimes I feel like a field of perennial weeds, offering you little more than Dandelions, I know that’s okay, because you’ve always loved the colour yellow.

As the sun was beginning to set and the skies above us started to turn clementine orange, I felt your hand linger gently at the back of my neck and in reaction, I blushed red, just like my namesake; the nickname you gave me the first night we met. Sat in silence, I could feel your soft stare settled on me and as I turned to catch your eye, a thought entered my mind that I was too frightened to speak - I think I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.

@xgoldxnhour​

[xgoldxnhour]

📞 (El & Sam)

@mettleborn

Contact photo:

Name: Officer Silas 🔥, Sheriff 🥰😍, Sammy 😇🦈🌙

Ringtone: Real Love Baby - Father John Misty

How often our muses text: I’d say pretty often any moment they can. It’s tough to be apart.

What our muses normally text about: It’s as domestic as they come. Grocery lists. Sweet lovely reminders. Pictures of pets. Thrift finds. Sometimes a little dirty.

Last texts:

[to: Sam] I hope you know that you’re my favorite person.

[to: Sam] hey cutie, headed to the store. Anything I should keep my eye out for? Whatchu thinking for dinner?

[to: Sam] too late sucker, I bought gnocchi. Ya snooze ya lose. Love you, see you at home. With gnocchi.

[to: Sam] We like gnocchi, right?

[xgoldxnhour]

📸 - for Sam pls.

@mettleborn

Hi excuse me, how did you expect me to only choose 5???

So, I got 6 miscellaneous/around the house/altogether a hunk of man. Cuz fuck the system.

And then here’s 4 of El’s favorite vacation pics

[xgoldxnhour]

“ do you even know what you do to me? ” (Sam - modern verse)

@mettleborn

They were in the middle of washing dishes, this once tedious and mundane routine slowly becoming one of her favorite pastimes together. And they’ve developed a solid system with her washing and him drying. He’s a helluva dryer.

Soft music bleeds in the background, one of the vinyls that they blindly chose during their last trip to the record store. That too has become a bit of a routine. Sunday has become their one day of the week where they’ve managed to scrounge up a day off. So, they fill the day often with day trips or local adventures that usually happens spur of the moment as they’re driving around. Movies. Bowling. Roller rink. Didn’t know that it was still open. Or sometimes they spend it at home, tucked under a billion blankets as they laze on the couch, far too distracted with each other to focus on a movie of any sort.

It’s not Sunday, but a night to celebrate no less. What exactly? They didn’t know. Someone’s birthday or anniversary or something out there. There’s a few dishes left though the chorus swirls in the background as they’ve been tossing a few swaying hips and light hums. Her head turns as he’s waiting for another dish, but instead she takes his hand and moves to the center of the kitchen. Arms wrap around his neck, pulled close as she can’t help but relish in the thought of their first dance at the Sheriff’s wedding. Oh, how quickly things changed that night. In all the best ways.

His eyes glint and the butterflies do a whole circus act in her stomach. In attempt to quiet its swirl, her nose buries into his shoulder, letting out a content breath as they continue to dance to a song they’ve never heard, but will soon become a favorite.

And when he speaks—asking her if she knows what she even does to him…she laughs. Soft and enough to compare to the brilliance of the sun. Lips settle at his shoulder before her gaze settles on him again.

“Mmm…think I might have an idea.” El gleams. “Tell me anyway?”

[xgoldxnhour]

[Nude] - walking in on him when they're just 'friends' in Modern 😂

@mettleborn

Nine minutes was an alarming new record getting to his place. And hell, she was mighty proud of that record and couldn’t wait to tell him that neither could use the ‘fifteen minute’ drive out as an excuse anymore.

The door’s unlocked as it often is for her, but even then she knows where the hideaway key is which she plans on using any day now just for the element of exclusivity that it brought as his best friend. That and there had been a time or two where she had to drive a very drunk Sam home who left his keys in the house or at the bar. There’s a whole place now hidden behind the counter for left keys that people come to fetch hungover the next day.

As she enters, a mangly thing on four legs greets her with eager enthusiasm, which she returns in great fervor. “Hi, buddy…!” El coos, one hand reaching down to blindly scratch behind his ear as the other hand balances the bag of food she’s brought. “Sorry, dude, not for you, but—“ Blocking his jumps, she sets the bag on the kitchen counter along with the rest of her things before she fishes out her little surprise. Well, suppose she can’t really call something a surprise when she essentially brings him something every time she comes over. Finding what she’s looking for, she raises the pig’s ear treat up and hands it over to him. “Knock yourself out, Shay Shay, but don’t eat it all at once, okay?” Though as expected, the dog scarfs it into his mouth and quickly trots over to his bed where he continues chewing on a little piece of heaven.

“Hey, Red! Did you know that KFC now has beyond chicken? Well—you will, cause I brought some.” She calls, but no answer—assuming he’s off somewhere on the property doing ‘manly things’. Typical. With a shrug, El then averts her attention to more important things as she���s looking for her matter of fact…third best friend. “Where’s my favorite little gourd…” Her voice drops to what can only be assumed is some weird version of baby talk as she walks around the kitchen and living, looking for him.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” She asks the dog, but to no avail, he too is far too preoccupied to pay attention to her. This is unacceptable.

Thinking Pumpkin must be hiding in Sam’s room, she heads down the hallway to find him. Somehow, the blonde has made impeccable timing as she walked into the kitchen when Sam got out the shower, so there was no awareness of any water running and he couldn’t hear her calling, so—she opens the door, calling out to Pumpkin, when—

Her hand slaps her eyes, covering them with a surprised shriek as she doesn’t in fact find an orange cat, but a very naked (and incredibly physiqued) Samuel Silas. “Fuck—sorry, sorry!” The door slams closed again with her back against it. “I didn’t know you were in there…and I didn’t see anything, I swear. I was looking for the damn cat!” Her face is beet red as she’s sure he shares the same shade across his face. Nope, she saw. She saw, the image now branding itself in her mind.

Her hand is now covering her mouth, her speechless deer in headlight look slowly melting into a fit of giggling laughter. “I’m so sorry.” Her embarrassment and genuine apology is shrouded in awkward then boisterous laughter. To the point she’s practically snorting.

“I can take off my shirt and we’re even…if that helps!” She jokes, still giggling, turning her head as she’s talking into the wood. “And you gotta tell what fucking workout you’ve been doing…cause Jesus…Silas. Don’t make me whistle.” Her attempt of trying to make him feel better.

[xgoldxnhour]

send ☁ for sender’s muse to fall asleep against receiver’s. ♥️

@mettleborn

She knew that second he laid his head into her lap that he’d be a goner. Long day with take out and a movie. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Her turn to pick and Sam falls asleep. Typical.

She’s barely showing at this point and they haven’t told anyone as a part of her is afraid it’ll jinx it, but one of the symptoms she had been noticing along with morning sickness was insomnia. Usually she was the one conked out on the couch or napping by the time he comes home from work. Long days and hours as he says it’s to help prepare for the baby. Her poor Sam. It’s barely been two and a half months and he’s read the entire pile of parenting books that lay at his nightstand. Where he finds the time with overtime is beyond her, but here, the worry lines diminish from his forehead and her husband is at peace.

Combing through his hair, El smiles, barely even paying attention to the movie anymore as all she thinks about is how she won the goddamn lottery with this one. She’d take a picture, but her phone is out of reach on the coffee table and she’s afraid of waking him, so, she just sits, threading through his hair that’s beginning to curl at this length.

“I hope you fall asleep as easily as your dad…” She mutters softly with a quiet laugh before leaning her head back into the cushion to continue watching the movie.

[xgoldxnhour]

You’re always making me do such weird things. (from Sam 🤣)

@mettleborn

“It’s not weird. It’s rejuvenating.” The blonde laughed, continuing to spread the homemade avocado mask across his cheeks and down the bridge of his nose. “It moisturizes the skin, baby. And…it tastes good.” El giggles, sucking some off her thumb before going back to scoop more onto her fingers and continuing the process all over his face.

“You can do my nighttime routines with me. Helps with inflammation on the skin.”

[xgoldxnhour]

Ship meme for El and Sam (any verse)

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General: Modern/TWD - I couldn't choose

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Well, both until their death obviously, but modern is a few decades (THANK GOD) and TWD is roughly 18-19 years.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Modern - they've been smitten for awhile, if not the whole time, but we like to torture ourselves with that slow burn best friends to lovers 10K words fanfic. TWD - literally weeks and only knew by each other's voices. It literally breaks me.

How was their first kiss? - MAGICAL. 10/10. Desperation. Chef's Kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Sammy boy

Who is the best man/men? - Modern - hmmmm maybe one of his closest coworkers? His dad?

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - I don't know if she'd have any. Her brother is definitely up there with her

Who did the most planning? - I think El did a lot of the organizing of things, but they did it all together

Who stressed the most? - El, but she just stresses in general. They stressed about different things maybe. I think she stressed most in the beginning and he did getting closer to the wedding.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big. - TWD - But I mean. It might've been tiny, but the church was BEAUTIFUL. Modern - Big, barn-like wedding or maybe at the cabin for that woodsy feel. AH. Beautiful.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Uh....cannibals?

Sex:

Who is on top? - Both, but maybe more Sam xD

Who is the one to instigate things? - Both are guilty in all verses.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head - I mean. RDR. That's all I gotta say.

How long do they normally last? - Depends on how much time they got haha. They're both sprinters and endurance runners hahahaha

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yes, but I also don't think they're trying to think about it much.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. - Basically no in between lmao

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children: Modern

How many children will they have naturally? - One - their own personal Aurora Borealis

How many children will they adopt? - Well, they technically adopt a lot of fur babies in Modern haha

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - El, but she doesn't mind. Sam is so good about waking up at night though.

Who is the stricter parent? - I think they both have their moments, but maybe El?

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Hm. HM. Depends on the stunt lol. But probably El. Sam is probably the instigator lol.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - El writes her little notes and makes shapes out of her food. It's basically arts and crafts for lunch.

Who is the more loved parent? - Aurora is such a daddy's girl, but mommy gives the best cuddles.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? I think during the day, it's maybe El since she works at the school or in the area. But, Sam will try if he can get the time off.

Who cried the most at graduation? - They both definitely wiped some tears, El probably wept on the car ride home though. Proud parents.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - I mean. Her dad IS the law. So xD

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Depends. Sam is an incredible cook, and they love cooking together. But, if he's working late, she comes and brings him his favorite or whatever she was experimenting that day.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - I think they're actually both pretty adventurous in their palette. Plus, they literally can't be picky in TWD lol.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Mainly El if it's during the week, but they go together on the weekend or she'll text him to pick up something specific after work.

How often do they bake desserts? - Constantly. Once a week if not more.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Both. Maybe Sam's more of a meat eater, but El is definitely an omnivore.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Equally.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Hm. Depends. When do these two leave their house unless they need to haha. For milestone anniversaries and birthdays, they sometimes travel and road trip to the Redwoods or the beach.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - El, but both can get slightly distracted sometimes when they're cooking.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - El. Blast some music and she'll go at it for hours.

Who is really against chores? - No one is against cleaning per say, but maybe they both would rather stay in bed all day instead.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Sam

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Both have their moments.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - El. Everything has to be perfect or she'll go bezerk.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - I don't know why, I feel like Sam would just be that lucky. But, El would be so excited like she's won the lottery about it.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? -El. Sam is the master of the quick shower, but not when El's around lol.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Sam did! But, when then they made it a habit to take Seamus on a walk together. Pumpkin obviously comes and goes on their own accord.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Every. Single. One. El goes overboard for holiday decorations and projects like that. Every season. All the decor. Probably has a HomeGoods credit card for those coupons.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Perseverance. Intimacy. Never go to bed angry. Communication. To love without effort and love even more when it needs effort.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - EL aka the night owl since she's so used to working late nights. Definitely not a morning person. Sam is fluent in her groans in the morning.

Who plays the most pranks? - Both do definitely in Modern. Maybe even more so when they have Aurora who likes to tag team.

@mettleborn

[xgoldxnhour]

Meta meme - a favourite piece of clothing or treasured trinket / accessory.

@mettleborn

TWD - that Pooh shirt! It’s adorable and the fact that he picked it out for her makes it all the more precious to her. And his hat that she steals from him.

Trinket would be the quilt they find at the farmhouse and take with them everywhere and remains home when they’re searching for another one.

Redwoods - I could see it being one of his shirts that she constantly steals, like a college t-shirt or a plaid shirt she loves.

Accessory - El loves this specific necklace that she wears practically daily that has small little Greek coin that was her mother’s.

RDR - funny enough, his watch! It ironically brought them together and the search for it only bloomed that. And once they find it, it almost brings this humor between them, always cracking jokes about it. I can see in the morning, he’s getting dressed and he can’t find his watch and before he ask her where it is, she’s holding it for him, helping put it on. I can also see him buying her a watch as a gift while they’re traveling around.

In general - her favorite thing to wear are eccentric pants!!! Whether it’s these black jeans with gold suns, moons and stars stitched all over it. Flared jeans of all colors. Wide legged plaid pants. Pleated grey trousers.

[xgoldxnhour]

@mettleborn

By Anders Røkkum

More: https://www.facebook.com/AndersRokkum

[xgoldxnhour]

🍾 – a spin-the-bottle kiss (For Sam - maybe modern verse before they actually got it together.)

The reception had died down to just a few friendly faces, who mostly weren’t just fit to drive yet and Uber not really being a thing in their town.

First, it started off a joke as one of the groomsmen said he caught some of the teenagers off somewhere playing the game out of boredom. Everyone laughed, most saying they hadn’t played the game since high school, which felt like eons ago. There wasn’t much to do in this town besides belligerent house parties and going off in the middle of nowhere to drink and be reckless. The staple of adolescence. One of the girls, Karina, she thinks her name was suggested that they played. Somehow it didn’t take much convincing, mostly for shits and giggles. And again, they were drunk, which made finding a bottle a breeze.

Sitting in the grass outside the barn, the group sat in a wide circle as if time reversed a decade or two, laughing to the point of tears. They were halfway through the circle when it got to her turn, somehow assuming she’d just be excused as the plus one and skipped over.

They refused of course, saying everyone had to play—rules are rules. With a laugh, El muttered a smirking “fine” leaning over the makeshift board they created to keep momentum over the grass.

The spinning was excruciating, feeling as though it would never end as she gave herself a mental pep talk. No big deal, just a chaste kiss or a slight peck. Be a good sport. Though as the bottle of fate slowed to a stop, her gaze met the familiar ones of cerulean.

“What a cop out.” One laughed, figuring the two were already dating as that was the ruse they decided on.

“Rules are rules.” El laughed, though a tinge of trepidation sewn in each seam. The look on his face made her stomach turn as she often pretends it doesn’t—how many times as she actually imagined this moment though. God, this was like fucking high school all over again.

“What do you say, Red? Give your date a kiss?” She leaned immediately, barely waiting for an answer as her lips pressed against his—hand holding against his jaw.

She’d be lying if she said that it wasn’t one of the best damn things about that wedding—or that entire month. Or year. Two. Her life. The best damn thing she had the privilege of doing in a long time.

World Series kind of stuff.

No time could’ve been calculated to determine how long they sat on that grass, leaning into this kiss with such adherence. Even though she was holding her breath, it would feel like she’d drown if she pulled away. But, when she did, she laughed lightly, gaze falling at the realization that there were in fact people there and staring—and whistling.

“Not bad, cowboy…”

[xgoldxnhour]

[ WALTZ ] our muses dance together in their living room. (for Sam)

@mettleborn

“Sh…I’m thinking!” El calls from her spot on the floor, flipping through vinyl in attempt to find the ‘perfect’ one. It was the end to a delightful night, which is how most of them end with him, but since Sam had been working long nights for the past few weeks, El decided that the next free night, she’d cook his favorite. Dim lights, candles, wine—the whole shabang.

At first, Sam panics, thinking he missed some important date, but the only importance of this night was they were together. All dressed up, as she asked, El finally pulled out her chosen record and stood to her feet so fast that she was practically dizzy. It didn’t waver the smile on her face, taking his hands to stable herself until they found home around her waist.

The moment the song begins to play, she could see the shake his head and almost scoffs. It’s basically the same record she chooses every time. It’s got her giggling, offering a shrug. “What can I say, I am nothing if not predictable.” Leaning in, their foreheads pressed together—holding as each other’s foundation. “Mmmm…might have to make this a reoccurring thing…clothes…optional.” She giggles again, breathing in each millisecond of the perfection of this moment.

Basking in the lyrics, practiced movements slow as they hold each other close—fingers tangled in hair at the nape of his neck—El finally looks up at her husband with adorn eyes. “One things for su—no—two. Two things I know for sure. One…” She pauses, a thumb caressing lightly against his jaw—it’s surprising there isn’t a branded print marked there with how often she does it. “I am…the luckiest goddamn person on this planet right now—that I get to love and be loved by you. And…two—” Pausing again for dramatic effect. “Biologically, our kid will be a Fleetwood Mac fan. It’s fact.”

[xgoldxnhour]

@mettleborn

[xgoldxnhour]

@mettleborn

Jack Strutz