#Glitter Bridal Bag

[bohodesingdizayn]

Bridal Bag Luxury Wedding Pearl&Lace mix Bridal bag, Glitter Bridal Bag, Wedding Gift bag, bridal Party, Personalized Handmade bride bag

Welcome to our store :) -Luxury White lace and pearl mix Handmade Bag -This stylish bag with white luxury lace and pearl detail is hand-made for you, one by one. -Can be personalized as you wish (For example: Name, Date.. or any other text. Just write us exactly what you want) -The material used is made of semi-shiny pearls and first class quality lace, and the pearls are handmade one by one. -A unique bag with its ergonomic use and stylish design that will accompany you on your most special days.. -Product Dimensions: Length: 15cm Width: 25cm Handle Length: 15cm -Handmade Products -Personalized personalized products -Designs just for you on your most special day -We are here for our handmade products such as Luxury Bridal bags, Luxury Bridal jewelry boxes, Luxury Bridal crowns, Comfortable Bridal slippers and more, which we continue to design, dream and produce for you. -FREE SHIPPING option on all products -We ship quickly and safely to all over the world -All products are designed and customized for you as you wish and imagine, using the existing products on our page. For this, do not hesitate to write to us.. -If you have any questions Please feel free to ask We are here to help you with pleasure -All the products in the photos are our own products, designed and produced by us. -If a product has been permanently personalized, returns cannot be accepted. Apart from that, we are ready to do our best for you, please contact us in case of even the slightest problem. We are ready to do our best to help you on this special day. It will be our pleasure to assist you.

[writersdrug]

Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway

Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/

OMG wait I soooo want to try that-

The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.

"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.

"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."

"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.

"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"

He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"

"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"

"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.

"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"

Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."

You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"

He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.

"You think it'd sell?"

"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."

He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."

You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.

Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.

You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.

However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.

"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.

"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.

"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."

He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."

"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.

"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.

You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."

Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).

You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.

You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.

"Tastes like a mule."

"But it looks like a potion, right?"

"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"

You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.

Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.

Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.

He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.

Hus phone buzzes.

Price: ??

Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media

Soap: clever girl

Soap: what drink?

Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.

Soap: picture?

Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?

Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-

Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.

Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.

Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.

You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.

Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.

His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.

Price: Cute thing, isn't she?

Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.

"Fuckin' wot?"

[tj-dragonblade]

FLUFFBRUARY 2023: Feb 23, 24, 25, 26

Feb 23 prompts: scrap snack ballet Feb 24 prompts: art needle slip Feb 25 prompts: breathe offer ignite Feb 26 prompts: ice beautiful night

This is fluff in the same way that a microwaved peep is technically still fluff, just. Heated up.

Thanks and shout-outs to @the-cloudy-dreamer for Dream's fashion and makeup inspiration, @lenreli for posting gifs of the exact ensemble I'd decided on for Hob, @quillingwords for a quick spot of Brit-picking re: underwear, @avelera for putting the Tom-Sturridge-kissing-men compilation in front of me again, and the entire Dreamling Nation server for inspirational thirsting over The Rug™️

On AO3 - 1800 words

===== Hob doesn't quite notice, right away, when he gets home.

He registers Dream's presence on the sofa, certainly, offers a cheery "Hello, love!" as he steps inside and shuts the door, slips off his shoes, sets down his messenger bag, but. He has failed to truly look, at first.

"I have been waiting for you, Hob," Dream says, and the languid sultry tone has Hob spinning back in a heartbeat, attention seized.

And then he forgets his own name, just for a second.

Dream is lounging on the sofa like a swooning maiden on her fainting couch, head tipped back along the arm, his own arm thrown artfully over his eyes. He's wearing a very sheer robe, black of course, shot through with glittering diamond-y bits that wink like stars in the overhead light; it's trimmed with iridescent black feathers all along the edges of the sleeves and skirt—and there is a lot of skirt to it, spilling over the sofa, trailing onto the floor, a cascade of see-through night-sky chiffon going everywhere. It hides absolutely nothing of Dream, except where it does, deliberately gathered layers and a belted silk tie draped over his groin as if by happenstance and the rest of his skin gleaming pale and alluring through the gauzy star-strewn fabric. The bony curves of his legs peek in and out among the winding feathery trim and his bare feet are just visible beneath it.

He looks tantalizing, tempting, debauchable and delectable, a veritable vision of carnal promise and Hob can't tear his eyes away.

Dream lowers his arm and raises his head when Hob continues to just stare, and then Hob's transfixed all over again by dramatic eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow, the beautiful silvery blending of the makeup against Dream's pale skin.

He is mouthwatering, and Hob wants.

"I wish to have sex," Dream says then, as if the extended silence means Hob may not have cottoned on to that fact just yet.

"Clearly," Hob croaks, finding his voice at last.

Dream regards him with a bird-like tilt of his head, then smiles, a slow and curling thing that goes straight to Hob's dick. "You are. Pleased, by my attire?" He preens, arching into his reclining posture in a way that makes the light catch every little rainbow thrown off by his robe, moving one knee up so that it just pokes out from the frothy feathery trim, bare and pale and inviting.

Vain creature. Hob loves him so much; he takes a breath, getting a handle on himself as his brain catches up. "Frankly darling, you look a veritable snack."

Okay, maybe the brain isn't quite caught up yet but. Just. Language is a marvelous and ever-evolving thing and he teaches kids, alright, he's gotta stay abreast of modern slang. And sometimes it just. Slips out.

There's a moment where Dream's fine pale brow creases slightly, and he makes the face that Hob has come to associate with sifting through the entirety of the collective subconscious before his expression smooths into understanding, and then slides into something both pleased and sultry. He flows upright and then off the sofa, approaching Hob with a voluptuous sway in his hips, the sheer robe trailing around and after him like smoke and water, like a bridal train. The silk tie still manages to just obscure his groin and the fluffy feathery edging swirls gracefully around his legs, and Hob's mouth has gone very dry as Dream steps right up into his personal space.

Dream lifts one hand, feathery sleeve pooling in the crook of his elbow, and draws a long black nail that's just the safe side of too sharp along Hob's collarbone, over his polo. "Very well," Dream purrs, pushing close, his entire body a hairsbreadth from touching Hob's, and Hob is standing stock still, vehemently turned on. "If I am a 'snack'"—his fingertip slides down, tracing under the edge of Hob's blazer, drawing it open, aside—"then you, Professor Gadling, are an entire. Meal."

His face is tipped up, mouth close enough to Hob's that he can taste the words as Dream finishes speaking; Dream's softly-wandering nail finds a nipple, pebbled up beneath his shirt, and drags over it, catching sweetly.

Pleasure sparks and Hob whines, a high bitten-off sound, listing forward until his mouth touches Dream's. Dream takes it in a wet, open kiss, pushing into him, hot and languid and insistent with his tongue. He's manifested himself a bit shorter than usual, shorter than Hob, and the resulting angle is absolutely exquisite.

Hob's hands settle on Dream's waist, squeeze gently, and the feel of that robe under his fingers is unlike anything he can readily describe. It's solid yet not, clingy yet slippery, sliding easily beneath his clumsy questing touch like water, if water was dry and solid—and he's making no sense, definitely not when most of his brain is occupied by the utterly filthy kissing that Dream is giving him. All the same, he has a brief but vivid flash of sense-imagery, of reclining in bed with Dream sinking down onto his cock and that robe whispering everywhere over his skin, of reaching underneath it to grasp Dream's hips and lift him just enough to thrust—

Dream hums approval of the inadvertently-projected daydream, a sultry drawn-out sound that barely breaks the kiss; his hands move to Hob's belt. He undoes it with sensual ease, and the soft jingle as it falls open ratchets Hob's arousal up another notch. Dream pulls back just a little, nipping at Hob's lower lip as he takes the belt buckle and pulls. The belt slips free with a soft whisper of leather against fabric and Dream tosses it lazily aside.

"Brilliant," Hob mutters, fully onboard with the notion of fewer clothes, shedding his blazer and flinging it aside as well. Dream stops him when he goes next for his polo shirt, lifts the hem himself and skims his long black nails up Hob's stomach, rucking the fabric higher. Hob grabs the back of his collar, pulls it off over his head, and Dream keeps skimming up along both arms until Hob pulls them free and throws the shirt aside.

"You too," Hob gasps, pawing at the front of Dream's robe, caught again by the otherwordly texture of the fabric over Dream's flawless skin before he gets it parted terribly much, and then Dream's nails are raking softly through the hair on his chest, his stomach, distracting him further.

Dream glides back a step, two, vaguely toward the bedroom, drawing Hob after him by hooking a finger in his empty belt loops on either side and tugging. Hob goes willingly, only to fetch up against Dream when he stops again suddenly. "Kiss me," Dream breathes, "as if you would. Consume me." Hob, pent up and aching, slides both hands into Dream's hair, around the back of his neck, and complies.

Dream's hands are at his fly now, slipping free the button and drawing down the zip. It's slow and deliberate, pressing just enough against the hard length within to make Hob's breath catch. Then Dream's pulling his trousers open and reaching in, not to free him any further but to touch, to gently squeeze, to draw one long nail along the length of him still confined in his pants.

Hob tears out of the kiss with a choked-off moan. "Oh—god's bloody wounds, Dream—!" His hands clench in Dream's hair involuntarily, trembling.

Dream's smile curls all around his voice, low and smoky. "You must be. Hungry, Hob, with such a 'snack' before you."

The way he teases is maddening, his hands and his words and his voice; Hob can barely breathe. "Famished. Absolutely ravenous," he gasps out, hips rocking helplessly as Dream strokes up the length of him again.

Dream makes a pleased humming sound and then removes his hand from Hob's trousers, much to Hob's dismay.

Which vanishes quickly, because now Dream is crowded up against him, arms around his neck and hoisting himself lightly up, climbing, bare legs wrapping around Hob and locking behind him, prick hard and distinct against Hob's belly above his open fly. The gauzy robe is falling open everywhere, barely held together by the silk belt anymore, feathers fluttering enticingly against Hob's bare skin as Dream gets a hand on his face; his long nails are careful as they thread into Hob's hair and turn his face up.

"I would not keep you from. Sating, your hunger—" Dream's lips are dancing along Hob's jaw as he speaks, punctuated here with a sharp pull of teeth on Hob's earlobe, and the intimate way he says 'hunger' makes something swoop low in Hob's belly. "Perhaps we should. Adjourn, to the 'dining' room."

"Agreed," Hob gasps, and then Dream is kissing him again. Hob's hands are solidly around Dream's thighs, supporting him while Dream's devouring his mouth, and carrying him to the bedroom even with that distraction will not be a problem except for the miles and miles of starry feathery fabric trailing over the floor ready to trip him up. He shifts his hold, one arm wrapped under Dream's hips and the other working to gather the copious skirts to drape in the crook of his elbow to avoid mishap. And then, just for fun, just to tease, he slips his hand underneath it all—strokes the bare skin of Dream's arse, delves inward, brushes a fingertip over the puckered bud in the center. Dream squirms appreciatively, makes a little wanton sound into Hob's mouth, but Hob—

Hob is losing his mind. Dream usually makes himself ready when he's in the mood he is tonight, manifests his body open and wet and ripe for the taking. Hob was fully expecting to sink a finger into the warm slickness of him, tease him briefly to try to gain back some semblance of an upper hand, but instead he's found him dry, closed, tight.

Waiting to be prepped.

Hob groans, tearing his mouth from Dream's, arousal skyrocketing; preparing Dream, opening him up with his fingers, with his tongue, is one of Hob's absolute favorite things to do to him and it's rare that he will indulge that particular pleasure when Dream is already this worked up. But this—this is an invitation.

"Oh love," he gets out, breathless, so hard it's making him dizzy, "I get to?"

"You named me edible," Dream says, kissing across his chin, abortively rutting the naked length of his prick against the hair on Hob's stomach and clenching his cheeks around Hob's finger still pressed between them. He brings his mouth back to Hob's, breathes into it, "I would have you. Feast."

And so Hob does.

===== Fashion references: Hob Dream

EDIT: Now with amazing art by the fabulous @abyssalcryptid! Please check it out here!

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Creating Comfort From A Shopping Spree

Summary - Part 31 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist 

Both Cas and Sam give you curious looks as you get up and go to your bedroom to get changed and then make your way to the garage. Taking the red car you make your way into town to the closest mall. You navigate your way through the aisles with a few stops in mind. Your first stop is a jewelry store. You look through the glass at the arrangement of fancy diamond rings glittering under the bright fluorescent lights. But you know they’re all too showy, so you go inside to explore their more subtle offerings.

A young saleswoman in a black dress and fancy jewelry comes up beside you. “Can I help you?”

“Yes actually.” You hold up your left hand showing off your engagement ring. “My fiancé and I are gonna elope and he asked me to pick up the rings.”

“Do you have some put aside or?”

“No. He trusts my judgement to pick them out for us.”

“Alrighty then. What style do you have in mind?”

“We’re definitely not showy people, just something plain, preferably pure silver for both of us.”

She pulls out a box full of silver rings, some with engravings and patterns and some plain. You choose a simple silver ring for each of you and Dean. Once you finish paying for them you stash the ring boxes in your pocket and head to the next store: a women’s formal wear store. You make your way through the aisles browsing through their range of white dresses looking for something that you can see yourself in. You brush past floor length gowns, short tight dresses and puffy ball gowns. You give up on the bridal section, finding it too fancy for your blood and start browsing through the bridesmaid and reception dresses instead. Your eyes land on a knee length white dress with a lace overlay, lace sleeves and a high lace neckline. Just to be sure you take it to the fitting room and try it on. As you admire yourself in the mirror you can’t help but smile. The dress itself fits well but your black sports bra ruins the look and you can see the outline of your dark underwear through the light fabric. You make a mental note to add another stop to your journey as you change back into your normal clothes. You pay for the dress and the cashier folds it nicely in tissue paper and packs it into a white paper bag.

You make your way to the next stop on your list: a lingerie store. As you walk through the doors and inspect the skimpy and sexy bras and g-strings you feel so out of place. You push through the feeling and make a bee-line for the selection of white garments. After another tedious deliberation you settle on a lacy white strapless bra and matching lace panties that cover enough for you to still feel comfortable and modest but are also sexy. At the checkout there’s a display with toys and condoms; you take a box of condoms from the display and place it next to the underwear and the cashier rings it up. Once you pay for everything you stuff them into the bag with the dress and head towards your last stop. On the way to the final store a shoe shop catches your eye. Your eyes land on a simple pair of white platform heels with ankle straps adorned with silver buckles. Deciding to go the full mile you ask the cashier to find them in your size and add them to your haul.

With no further distractions you go to a beauty parlour for your final stop. You ask for the full works: hair trim and style, wax legs and brazilian, mani-pedi, eyebrows and subtle make up. You decide if you’re going to do this you want to do it right. Knowing Bobby’s on his way to Dean, you call Bobby and ask him to fake a case and get Dean in a suit and tie. As you get in your car to head back to the bunker the feeling of dread fills your stomach. You know there’s no guarantee he’ll agree to your plan or even want to see you, but you try to push down the feeling and replace it with hope.

Back in your room you change into the new lingerie, put on deodorant and perfume, then the dress and shoes. Then for pockets, comfort and subtlety you slip one of the flannels Dean left behind over the top of your dress. You stow the rings, knife, gun, and a few of the overpriced condoms in the pockets and then walk out into the kitchen in search of Sam. You’re a little unsteady on the heels for a few steps but you eventually get the hang of it, focusing on your balance and executing each step perfectly. Sam hears the clicking of your heels before you even get into the room and meets you halfway with his gun drawn. His jaw drops when he sees you, along with his gun

“Wow!”

“Is that a good wow?” You ask.

“Ye-yeah, of course. I’m just not used to seeing you like this. So, what? You’re gonna try and sneak up on him in disguise?”

“Not exactly … I plan to get married. I’ve had this ring long enough, it’s time to act on the promise we made.”

“You think Dean’ll agree to that?”

“Not really, but I can be pretty persuasive.”

“You gotta let me come with you then. I can’t miss you and my brother’s wedding.”

“Fine, of course I want you there. But you stay back, let me talk to him alone first.”

“Deal.”

You nod. “Okay, Cas, where are you? It’s go time!”

You feel a breeze behind you and then sense his presence. You turn around to face him. He gives you a confused look and then reaches out to touch your forehead but you stop him right before he makes contact.

“Wait. One more question: as an angel of the lord can you marry us?”

He looks between you and Sam, confused. “You and Sam?”

“No. Me and Dean.”

“You’re already soulmates, your souls are tied to each other for eternity.”

“Then just humour me. Can you read the rites and do the ceremony?”

“It seems redundant in the scheme of things, but sure.”

“It’s really just a symbol. I want him back and I figure it's time to go big or go home. I need to show him how serious I am about us despite the new revelations and challenges.”

“Very well. Shall we go?”

Sam cuts in as you nod, “I’m coming too.”

Cas gives him an indignant look but lifts his fingers to his forehead also. A moment later you’re all standing outside a fancy hotel. You smile and shake your head up at the glass covered building.

“Figures. He knows I’d never look for him somewhere like this. Where are we? Hollywood?” You ask.

“Miami, Florida,” Cas says matter-of-factly.

“Definitely never would’ve thought to come here. He’s good, but not good enough. Which room?”

“He’s not here right now, but when I last checked he was in room 314. Third floor,” Cas says.

“Thanks. I’m gonna go in there and wait for him to come back. You guys go somewhere and keep out of sight. You can’t let him know I’m here before I see him.”

“Of course. Go, before he gets back,” Sam says. He gives you a quick hug before lightly pushing you towards the large glass doors.

You walk inside to the service desk. You hold your head high and put your hands on the desk confidently showing off your engagement ring.

“Hi.” You say trying to get the receptionist’s attention. She walks over to you. “Hi, I want to surprise my fiancé, we’re getting married this weekend. He’s in room 314, I’m just hoping to get a key.”

“I can’t give out the keys to any other customer's room.”

You pull out a $50 note and place it on the bench. “I just want to give him a pre-wedding gift. Please.”

She pulls out a key card with the number 314 printed on it and puts one hand on the $50 as she places the card on the bench. You take the card and let go of the note. You make your way up to his room.

Inside it’s exactly as you’d expected: a mess with mostly empty take out containers, pizza boxes, empty bottles, the sheets are strewn around on the bed and his dirty clothes are all over the room. With your anxiety on overdrive thinking about what he’s going to say, you’re unable to sit still. You start tidying up, putting all the clothes in a pile in the bathroom, you make the bed and stack the rubbish in and near the bin. By the time the room is neater you’re starting to sweat and mess up your hair so you turn the AC down and sit on the edge of the bed to cool down.

Eventually you hear the electric lock beep and the door knob click. You sit up straighter on the bed and quickly try to compose yourself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423

[dxncingxnmyown]

@hcrexcellency | Gizella and Elias, Late Afternoon at the Schellenberg's Suite (Modern AU)

He loves his wife. He loves their marriage. It's just... He despises weddings. The tule. The glitter. The lavish expensive. Elias barely survived his own wedding, and that was when the Schellenberg's exhausted several lines of credit for a half-decent ceremony. Elias arrives after three hours spent at the tennis court, to what appears to be an obscene amount of tulle and flower arrangements. "Babe!" he calls out, dropping his tennis bag near the couch. "Are you in here?" He lifts the table cloth of the dining table, frowning. "When did our hotel suite become a bridal boutique?"

[distinguisheddestinycollection]

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La Reat’s Luxury Crystal Bags: A Blend of Elegance and Functionality

La Reat, a brand renowned for its premium luxury bags, takes crystal evening bags to the next level. The exquisite bags in their collection are a perfect blend of design, functionality, and timeless elegance. Made with the finest materials and designed to perfection, La Reat’s bags are the epitome of luxury.

The bags in La Reat’s luxury collection offer intricate crystal detailing that can immediately elevate any outfit. From delicate embellishments to larger, more dramatic crystal patterns, each bag has been crafted with care to ensure that it stands out while complementing your wedding attire. Their collection is designed to meet the needs of modern women who appreciate both style and substance. Whether you're seeking a compact clutch or a more spacious evening bag, La Reat ensures that each piece is not only a work of art but also practical for carrying essentials such as your phone, lipstick, and other small items.

For those looking to make an unforgettable impression at a wedding, these luxury crystal evening bags are the perfect accessory. Their versatility allows you to use them for different occasions beyond weddings – making them a valuable addition to any fashion-forward wardrobe.

A Must-Have for Weddings in Mumbai

Mumbai, the fashion capital of India, is home to some of the most opulent weddings in the country. The attention to detail in bridal and guest attire, makeup, and accessories is immense, and luxury crystal evening bags for weddings are a significant part of this trend.

With the growing demand for unique and high-end accessories, La Reat has successfully carved out a niche in the luxury fashion market. Their collection of luxury crystal bags for weddings offers options that cater to both traditional and contemporary tastes. The combination of crystals and fine craftsmanship makes La Reat bags an ideal choice for those who want to leave a lasting impression at weddings in Mumbai.

Whether you're attending a lavish destination wedding or a more intimate celebration, La Reat ensures you look nothing short of stunning. A luxury crystal evening bag is more than just an accessory – it is a statement, an investment in style, and a symbol of your unique taste.

Conclusion

If you’re searching for the perfect luxury crystal evening bags for weddings in Mumbai, look no further than La Reat. Their exquisite collection blends luxury with practicality, ensuring that your wedding outfit is elevated to perfection. With La Reat, you're not just carrying a bag; you're making a statement of sophistication and elegance that complements the vibrant wedding culture of Mumbai. Let your style shine through with La Reat’s luxury crystal evening bags, and make every wedding you attend a memorable occasion.

[poshfind]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dasein Women's Pleated Envelope Clutch Evening Handbag NWT.

[cindibarr]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Team Bride Printed White Cosmetic Travel Bag NWT.

[stylishclutchbag]

Shine Bright: Sparkling Embellished Clutches for Every Occasion

In the world of fashion, accessories are the exclamation point to a woman's outfit. They have the power to elevate a look from ordinary to extraordinary, and nothing does it better than an embellished clutch. These dazzling gems have become a must-have in every fashion-forward woman's wardrobe. Whether you're attending a glamorous gala, a romantic dinner, or a casual brunch, Embellished Clutches are the perfect way to add a touch of sparkle and sophistication to your ensemble. In this blog post, we will explore the world of Embellished Clutches, from their history to the latest trends and how to style them for various occasions. So, let's dive into the glittering realm of Embellished Clutches!

Embellished Clutches: A Shimmering History

Before we delve into the myriad options available today, let's take a moment to appreciate the history of Embellished Clutches. These exquisite accessories have a rich and storied past, dating back to ancient civilizations. In the early 19th century, women carried small beaded bags that resembled today's clutches. These bags were often intricately embroidered and adorned with precious stones, making them a symbol of elegance and status.

Fast forward to the roaring 1920s, and the embellished clutch took center stage in the fashion world. The Art Deco movement influenced clutch designs, with geometric patterns and luxurious materials like silk and velvet. It was during this era that Embellished Clutches truly became a statement piece, adding a touch of extravagance to flapper dresses and evening gowns.

Embellished Clutches: A Contemporary Renaissanc

While Embellished Clutches never truly faded away, they experienced a contemporary renaissance in recent years. Today, designers are pushing the boundaries of creativity, using a wide range of materials and techniques to craft these miniature works of art. From Swarovski crystals to sequins, pearls, and metallic embroidery, Embellished Clutches are now available in an array of styles to suit every taste.

The modern embellished clutch is a testament to craftsmanship and creativity. These small yet powerful accessories can transform a basic outfit into a showstopper. Whether it's a bejeweled clutch with a vintage vibe or a sleek and modern design with metallic accents, there's an embellished clutch for everyone.

Embellished Clutches: The Perfect Evening Companion

Imagine you're getting ready for a glamorous evening event. Your elegant gown is ready, your hair and makeup are impeccable, but what's missing? The perfect embellished clutch, of course! These tiny treasures are the ideal companions for formal occasions, whether it's a red-carpet gala or a romantic dinner.

When choosing an embellished clutch for a formal event, consider the color and style of your outfit. A classic black clutch with shimmering crystals can complement a wide range of dresses, while a metallic or jewel-toned clutch can add a pop of color and personality to your look. Remember to keep the rest of your accessories minimal to let your clutch take center stage.

Embellished Clutches: Effortless Elegance for Casual Affairs

Embellished Clutches aren't reserved solely for formal events. They can effortlessly elevate your casual outfits too. Whether you're meeting friends for brunch or going on a weekend date, a well-chosen embellished clutch can turn your everyday look into something extraordinary.

For a chic daytime ensemble, pair a denim jacket, a white tee, and jeans with a beaded or embroidered clutch. The juxtaposition of casual and glam creates a striking and fashionable contrast. It's all about infusing a touch of luxury into your daily life.

Embellished Clutches: A Bridal Essential

Brides-to-be, take note! Embellished Clutches are becoming an essential accessory for the modern bride. These delicate clutches are the perfect addition to your bridal ensemble, adding a touch of sparkle and charm to your wedding day look.

Many brides opt for Embellished Clutches as a beautiful alternative to traditional bridal purses. They can be customized to match your wedding colors and theme, making them a meaningful keepsake from your special day. Plus, they provide a convenient and stylish way to carry your essentials on your big day.

Embellished Clutches: The Red Carpet's Best Friend

If there's one place where Embellished Clutches truly shine, it's on the red carpet. Celebrities and fashion icons alike have embraced these sparkling accessories as a way to make a bold fashion statement. From Hollywood's most glamorous events to international film festivals, Embellished Clutches are a staple on the red carpet.

Celebrities often opt for unique and eye-catching designs that complement their outfits, creating memorable and Instagram-worthy looks. For those looking to channel their inner star, an embellished clutch is the key to capturing the essence of red-carpet glamour.

Embellished Clutches: A Sustainable Choice

In an era where sustainability is at the forefront of fashion, Embellished Clutches offer a sustainable choice for accessory enthusiasts. Many designers are now focusing on creating Embellished Clutches using eco-friendly materials and ethical practices. So, when you choose an embellished clutch, you're not only making a fashion statement but also contributing to a more sustainable fashion industry.

Sparkle Your Way Through Life with Embellished Clutches

Embellished Clutches are more than just accessories; they are a reflection of your personality, style, and the occasion you're attending. Whether you're dressing up for a special event, adding glamour to your casual wear, or making a statement on the red carpet, Embellished Clutches are your trusty sidekick.

With their rich history, contemporary renaissance, and sustainability initiatives, Embellished Clutches are here to stay. So, embrace the sparkle, choose the perfect clutch for every occasion, and let your style shine bright. The world is your runway, and Embellished Clutches are your ticket to turning heads wherever you go. Elevate your fashion game and make every moment an unforgettable one with these dazzling treasures – the world of Embellished Clutches awaits you.

Must Read: Luxury Clutches: Timeless Elegance in the Palm of Your Hand

[angelandgypsy]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWT Diamonique Sterling Silver 14K Gold Plate Initial “A”Necklace.

[bohodesingdizayn]

Handmade Bridal bag row pearl lace, Luxury Wedding bag Personalize bag Pearl bags,bag for special occasions, Wedding Gift bag White bag

Welcome to our store :) -Luxury Handmade Bag with white row of pearls and wonderful lace detail -This white luxury elegant bag with rows of pearls and lace details is handmade for you. -Can be personalized as you wish (For example: Name, Date.. or any other text. Just write us exactly what you want) -The material used is handmade with first class lace and a row of white half pearls. -A unique bag with its ergonomic use and stylish design that will accompany you on your most special days.. -Product Dimensions: Length: 15cm Width: 25cm Handle Length: 15cm -Handmade Products -Personalized personalized products -Designs just for you on your most special day -We are here for our handmade products such as Luxury Bridal bags, Luxury Bridal jewelry boxes, Luxury Bridal crowns, Comfortable Bridal slippers and more, which we continue to design, dream and produce for you. -FREE SHIPPING option on all products -We ship quickly and safely to all over the world -All products are designed and customized for you as you wish and imagine, using the existing products on our page. For this, do not hesitate to write to us.. -If you have any questions Please feel free to ask We are here to help you with pleasure -All the products in the photos are our own products, designed and produced by us. -If a product has been permanently personalized, returns cannot be accepted. Apart from that, we are ready to do our best for you, please contact us in case of even the slightest problem. We are ready to do our best to help you on this special day. It will be our pleasure to assist you.

[benbenjewels]

Twisted Simple 18K Gold, Rose Gold, SS,  Iced Cut Shining Drop Ball Ornaments 3 Color Tones Necklace

https://www.facebook.com/benbenjewelly/videos/789590741499421/

[bearybutch]

i never want to be ashamed of being butch whilst being besotted with all things feminine - so here it is, lovingly: my favourite colour is pink. always has been, always will be; even if you probably won’t catch me dead in it.

all my love to @godhater, my femme and my muse.

image description below!

[ ID: Images are displayed left to right, top to bottom, in a 2 by 5 arrangement. There are 10 images in total, comprising a comic about butch love for femininity through a butch4femme couple’s dynamic.

1: Text reads “My favourite colour is pink” in pink cursive font. A femme lesbian with shoulder length wavy hair is shown, smiling and twirling in a pink knee length dress.

2: Text reads “I love dressing up and accessorising” in pink cursive font. The femme lesbian is shown in a pink heart motif dress with her hair up in space buns. Her butch partner stands behind her with his hand on her waist and wearing a heart motif button up. They are taking a selfie in a mirror, seen from the waist up.

3: Text reads “I always stop to stare at bridal shop windows” in pink cursive font. Two wedding dresses are shown in an arched window surrounded by pink wisteria and pink bushes. The left dress is slim with a flare base and low cut, whilst the right dress is off the shoulder with dangling gemstones and a voluminous skirt.

4: Text reads “and I collect pretty trinkets of every cute variety.” in pink cursive font. Several items are shown, including a lemon and a peach shaped bag, a fluffy bear motif bucket hat, a watermelon slice USB stick, small hoop earrings with hearts, an a vampire bite enamel pin.

5: Text reads “I love the colours and shine and glitter of makeup,” in pink cursive font. A makeup compact with a pink heart embossed blush is shown. In the mirror, the femme’s closed eye is visible with large winged eyeliner and glittery pink eyeshadow. Her hand holding the compact has long pink nails.

6: Text reads “long lashes, long hair, long nails and teeth and horns” in pink cursive font. The femme is shown making a pussy eating symbol with pink neon horns floating above her head. Her long nails, eyes, and tongue are pink. Her iris’ are heart shaped.

7: Text reads “I love all things feminine” in pink cursive font. A leather jacket with pink spikes on the cuffs and shoulders is shown, with an embroidered patch on the back reading “LESBIAN” in large pink curly letters.

8: Text reads “and I love you, my darlingheart” in pink cursive font. The femme is shown twirling in a new pink dress and pink motif knee high boots, smiling and looking down at her outfit. Further in the distance, her butch sits watching her with an adoring expression, surrounded by pink shopping bags. He is in long pants and a plain tee.

9: Text reads “Maybe you wouldn’t expect it of me, but -“ in pink cursive font. The butch is shown seated from behind, with a short shave and slicked back hair. He is wearing a plain tee, long pants, and has hairy arms. He is lifting one hand shyly to rub the back of his neck whilst the other leans on the seat. This image is notably without any pink accents.

10: Text reads “my favourite colour is pink” in pink cursive font. A small open envelope reads “FIN” just below. The butch is shown close up, leaning on his left hand and smiling dreamily at something off-canvas - probably his femme. He is blushing hard in a bright pink over his cheeks and ears. He has slicked back hair and is wearing a plain tee. 

End ID. ]

[hournites]

I Can Hear the Bells

Hournite FLUFF!

I wrote this August 14th 2021 so it's not even a spoiler :)

~.~

The panic hits like a hard wave in the ocean. Beth has never been a great swimmer. Nebraska wasn’t the state a girl like her would get the chance, her parents weren’t ever the type to sit by the pool during preschool lessons either. It was fine. She survived this long. 

You’re not drowning, she scolds herself, using her best Artemis voice. And this wave isn't of water. You’re nervous. Kinda freaking out. That’s all. Pull yourself together, Chapel!

And she’s not a young girl anymore, she’s a grown woman standing in a satin robe and slippers staring at the vacuum-sealed bag before her. 

The curtain rails screech open and her white bridal consultant flashes her perfect white teeth at her. “Are we ready?” 

Beth steps to the side and makes a small noise of agreement as the dress comes out of the bag and is up on the hanger. Her breath is caught up in her throat as she comes face to face with the dress she had picked out with her friends months ago. The laced-up back is like a corset, the glitter and sparkle as it flows down to the floor. The tears spring to her eyes and she blinks fast. 

The bridal consultant checks the designer on the tag and hums. The approval is evident as she opens up the back and urges Beth to step a foot into the dress. “Is this your first alteration appointment?” 

“No. It was too long, I’m 5’1.” Beth stares at her reflection in the mirror. It was the right size when she first picked it out. A miracle, according to her mom. Apparently, they kept sizes 0-3 on the floor of these boutiques and left the rest of the women feeling bad for being a size 8 or plus and having to order the correct size via the catalogue. Disgusting. Beth was nervous enough trying to choose the right dress, she wasn’t sure what she’d have felt to find out they didn’t even have the right one for her to fit into. Anyway, it sits perfectly at the bust and the waist now, and both Courtney and Yolanda tear up when she first steps out in it despite the mountain of fabric the poor lady has to carry that trails behind her. 

“No heels?” 

“I was going to wear heels anyway, my fiance is, um, really tall. For me, at least.”

Beth isn’t sure why she’s blushing. Maybe because she looks stunning and she’s actually getting married. It’s no longer almost a year away, this is happening.

She steps out of the robe and turns around. The panic trickles out of her body altogether. Outside in the chic waiting room, her mom gasps and Courtney claps her hands to conceal her delighted squeal. 

“It fits!”

“It fits!” Beth exclaims back. “It’s perfect, right?” She walks up to the stand in front of the three lighted mirrors and looks behind her back as the dress swishes, inspecting the beadwork.

“Absolutely,” Jennie chimes in.

“Your phone has been buzzing like crazy,” Yolanda says. She flashes her phone screen at her. A line of texts by Mr. Emoji-Rings-and-Hearts covers her lock screen of Hootie. “He wants to see but we keep telling him he’s gotta wait.” 

Beth laughs. “Let me talk to him.” 

Yolanda hands over the phone after swearing she won’t FaceTime him. “He’s gotta wait, Beth! It’s bad luck!” 

“I know,” she promises with an amused eye roll. “I’m just going to call him so he can calm down.” 

She puts the phone to her ear, already grinning. “Honey. Stop pestering Yolanda. You know she won’t budge.” 

“So, you’re telling me I gotta angle Court?“

Beth yanks the phone from her ear. The blood drains from her face, staring down at her contact to double-check she hasn’t lost her mind. 

“...Rick?” 

“...Yeah? Beth...you okay?” 

The tidal wave hits again as she searches through her friends and mother’s confused faces for confirmation. “I’m marrying Rick?” 

~.~ 

Beth wants a church wedding. Wooden pews, a dramatic aisle, creaking noises when guests stand for her entrance at the double-breasted doors. Her dad holding her arm to keep her steady down the walk to her love. She knows it’s ironic. She can’t deny the idea was inspired by her name. It felt right when she pictured it during spare daydreaming moments in elementary school, or saw clips of Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta on her Youtube recommended, or flipped through glossy magazine spreads for bridal shops during collage projects in middle school art class with Cameron Mahkent. 

The whole wedding core fascination is more for aesthetics than anything else because she’s always admired fashion. She’s never bothered to think about who would be standing at the end of the sanctuary. In fact, she hasn’t even really cared. Unlike the other girls in her class, she’s never exactly clamoured for a boyfriend. 

So yeah, it was a bit weird to wake up from the dream where she was marrying Rick.

Beth wiped the drool from her face and dragged herself out of bed, fighting down the embarrassing flush only her plush animals would see. 

It was just a dream. Dreams are weird, Beth rationalized as she brushed her teeth. 

Dreams are weird and can’t make up faces without something grounded from reality to work with. 

So, if she was going to have a hot fiance, it had to be someone she already knew. 

And Rick dropped her home super late last night after the JSA mission, so she face-planted into bed. Her brain was probably so exhausted it didn’t want to flip through her facial recognition catalogue and settled on Rick to be her stand-in Dream Groom. Basic psychology. Weirdness solved. 

Besides, Rick was the hottest person she knew.

Beth spat out her toothpaste and washed her face, wiping the embarrassment clean, satisfied with her logic.  

Breakfast was cereal and toast because she ran out of pancake mix. And it only took four spoonfuls of Special K with blueberries for it to dawn on her. She squeaked, almost choking, and slapped her hands over her mouth as milk dribbled down her chin. It almost came up her nose.

"Beth?" Her dad folded his morning newspaper and frowns at her.

Mom sputtered out a startled chuckle, an eyebrow raised. "Are you alright, dear?"

She thinks Rick is hot. 

She thinks Rick is hot?!

"I THINK I LIKE RICK?"

Bridget and James turned to look at each other. They laughed.

fin.

[mrs-gucci]

A Beach Day to Remember {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author’s notes: made it just under the wire for this week’s writer wednesday :) it’s a bit different from my usual writing MO, but I honestly had a blast with it and I’m decently pleased with how it turned out, actually. I wrote this late at night while I was half-asleep lol so sorry if it’s a little all over the place! thanks, as always, to @autumnleaves1991-blog for hosting & @clydesducktape​ for helping out! it’s such a great and fun weekly tradition!

warnings: fluff. humor. romance. beach fun. chair wrestling. a quick lil makeout session (nothing explicit). 

no tw’s :)

word count: 2.2k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ my general taglist peeps!  @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​  @gildedstarlight​ @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy​ @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @safarigirlsp​ @babbushka

By some miracle, you’d convinced born-and-raised country boy Clyde Logan to accompany you to Miami Beach for a week. A whole week, you couldn’t believe it. 

And...he actually bought a pair of swim trunks. Sure, they were a West Virginia Walmart buy, but hey, he bought a pair; you’ll take what you can get.

Who was this man and what has he done with Clyde Logan?

He’s never really been to the beach before, Mamma Logan didn’t like bein’ in the sun too long and Pappa wasn’t about to cross her, so this was his first time. 

Your family used to vacation here every year, so you were relatively familiar with the notoriously rowdy town. The first evening and night consisted of you showing a wide-eyed Clyde around Miami’s bustling night life. But, when the sun came up the next morning, he was revving to get down to the beach.

You had to talk him down a bit there at first, convincing him to eat somethin’ for breakfast before spending a whole entire day in the sun ‘cause if he passes out, he’s on his own getting back to the condo.

“I’m gon’ go get changed fer the beach!” He says excitedly, clapping his hands together and doing a little jog over to the dresser the second you two get back from your sidewalk cafe breakfast.

You smile at his enthusiasm, trying to remember the last time you saw him so openly excited and smiley. After only a few moments of thought, you realize that you’ve never seen him quite like this before. But, you’re certainly taking a liking to vacation Clyde.

Both Mellie and Jimmy requested plenty of photos of, and this is a direct quote, “Clyde’s long, pasty-ass legs in swim shorts”, and you’re nothing if not accommodating...

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, you quickly say “Smile!” and snap a picture of him in his leaf-pattern hunter green trunks. He frowns, striding over to where you’re standing.

“Hey now pumpkin, who’re ya sendin’ that off to?”

You giggle, typing out his sibling’s contacts into your messages. “Nobody...”

His eyes widen when he sees Jimmy and Mellie’s names. He tries to grab the phone away from you, but as he takes it, his palm accidentally nudges the little ‘send’ icon. 

“G’damnit! I fuckin’ sent it to ‘em!”

You’re cracking up as he frantically tries to somehow un-send the message, despite you trying to repeatedly convince him that there’s literally nothing that can be done at this point; the message is permanent.

Almost immediately, the replies begin to pile in and Clyde quickly puts a hand over his face as your phone chimes continuously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“‘m never gonna hear the end ‘a this when we get back home.” He groans. “Now they got that picture forever and they’re never gonna stop showin’ it...Oh ma god, they’re gonna put it in our weddin’ slideshow, a-and our future kids ‘re gonna see it, and it’s gonna be shown at ma funeral...”

You laugh, shaking your head as you put your hands on his bare, freckle-painted chest. “Hon, I really wouldn’t worry that much about it. It’ll all blow over in a little bit, I promise. Plus, I now have evidence that you actually came to the beach with me. I have a feeling our future kids won’t believe me when I tell them this story someday.”

Clyde starts laughing, running his hands down the curve of your body before landing on your hips. He pulls you in for a kiss, moving his lips gently against yours.

Your face scrunches when he starts licking into your mouth and the bitter taste of zinc overwhelms your taste buds.

“Mmmm, mmm, Clyde?”

He pulls away, brows furrowed.

“Did you put some zinc on your lips?”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away bashfully. “Oh, yeah, I did. ‘m sorry, I forgot ‘bout that.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I love you.”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead this time, rather than your lips.

“Love ya too, pumpkin.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clyde’s like a kid at a candy store when he gets down to the beach, quickly putting the cooler down on the sand and dropping his chair down next to it. The sunglasses sit just above the bridge of his zinc-whitened nose as his head moves around to drink in the sights unfolding before him.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him, setting your beach bag down with the cooler before beginning to set up your chair. But your man quickly jumps in and insists on unfolding the chair for you even though, as you’ll soon find out, he has zero idea how to operate a folding beach chair. To be fair, it was one of those older-fashioned ones that had sustained quite a bit of rust.

“Now, how in the world...?” He grumbles, trying to unfold the stubborn thing. He tries just about every method he could think up, at one point he was trying to use his flip-flop equipped foot to aid in the unfolding process, but he still cannot get the damn chair open.

Eventually, a curious (and very entertained) bystander comes over and helps the two of you out with your chairs, and both of you thank them profusely before finally beginning your day at the beach. Clyde remains standing, continuing to look around at all the things happening on the beach while you lay back and open your book to begin reading.

After a bit of sunning time, you and Clyde head down to the water. You keep your feet in the cool water while he stands further in, little waves crashing mid-calf. He finds a nice shell and runs up to put it back at your little setup while you stay and watch as the natural push and pull of the ocean slowly buries your feet in the sand.

Suddenly, a flesh arm comes on your back and a metallic arm scoops behind your knees, lifting you up as you squeal. 

“Clydeeee!”

He laughs, rushing into the water while holding you bridal-style, water splashing up all over both you and him with each of his massive strides. As soon as he knows he’s deep enough, he starts swinging you back and forth.

“One...Two...”

You’re in a fit of laughter, playfully hitting his chest. “Noooooo! Stooopppp!”

“Three!” Clyde tosses you into the blue-green water of the Atlantic as you screech, a big splash accompanying your collision with the surface.

You emerge a moment later, quickly rushing up and jumping into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the water. He laughs when he resurfaces and splashes you in the face teasingly, to which you respond by doing the exact same thing.

“No more splashin’!” He says, chuckling to himself at the irony of his exclamation.

You laugh, splashing him one more time. “You’re the one that started it, you goof!”

“Now, let’s not play the blame game, pumpkin.” He smiles jokingly, then wraps his arms around your torso, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Both of you spend a bit more time in the water before heading back up to your chairs to dry off in the sun and re-apply sunscreen. Clyde ends up falling asleep, a few shells he found in the water spread out on the top of his thighs as he snoozes.

Only about fifteen minutes later, you look over and put a hand over your mouth to cover the giggles that come when you see that one of the shells has sprouted some legs in preparation for an escape attempt. The creature begins crawling and he starts squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation, clearly beginning to re-awaken from his early afternoon slumber. 

When his eyes blink open and he looks down, he gasps, launching backwards in his chair. Unfortunately, the old-school beach chair already struggles to hold his massive form, so when he jumps back, the chair gives out and breaks clean in half, sending Clyde back into the sand. 

The poor crab is thrust into the sand, but it’s alright, quickly crawling back towards the ocean. You immediately stand up, trying not to laugh too hard until you know he’s completely alright. 

“Oh my fuck...Clyde! Are you okay, hon?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “’m alright, though I can’t say the same for this here chair, though.”

You giggle, helping him sit back up in the sand. When he’s fully sat up, he’s still smiling and laughing, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I owe the condo owners a new beach chair.”

--

A full, active day at the beach has you pretty fucking exhausted when you two finally head back up to the condo around four in the afternoon. You take a quick cat nap while Clyde showers, then you hop in and wash off the day’s sunscreen and sand.

While you’re in the shower, Clyde rifles through his duffle and pulls out a little velvet box, popping it open to expose the glittering diamond ring that sits on a little pillow. He smiles at the sight, knowing that tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask you to be his forever.

He’s been waiting for the right moment for a short while now, and after the fun y’all had at the beach today and the sunset beach walk he’s planning to take you on before your fancy dinner reservations later this evening...he can’t think of a more perfect time to do it.

You step out of the bathroom and Clyde scrambles to quickly tuck the ring box into his khaki pants pocket. He smooths his hands over the fabric before standing up, face breaking out into a wide smile when he sees the beautiful sundress you’ve got on.

“You’re so beautiful, pumpkin.” He says, smiling as he walks up to you, hands on your hips. “Always so, so beautiful.”

Your expression stretches into a bright, genuine smile as you get up on your tiptoes for a kiss. “Thank you, Clyde. You look awfully handsome yourself this evening.”

“Oh, well, thank ya, darlin’.” His cheeks grow red as he looks down for a moment, shoving his hands down in his pockets. “So, do ya wanna go on a sunset walk ‘fore our reservations?”

You agree, and the two of you head back down to the beach. His fingers fiddle with the little box in his pocket as you walk along the beach. Soon, you reach an old lifeguards stand, painted in brilliant mint green and flamingo pink colors. The ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ paint is still visible, even after some seeming wear and tear to the outside of the building. 

The sun’s touching down on the horizon line as he guides you up onto the old structure’s small front deck, and you lean over the railing together as the sun sinks down. 

Your head turns to look over at your beloved boyfriend, admiring the way the sherbet sky reflects off of and compliments his alabaster skin. God he’s beautiful, you think to yourself for what has to be the millionth time in your three years of dating Clyde. He’ll forever be the most beautiful man in your eyes.

He turns to you then, standing up with a shaky hand reaching out to take yours. “Uh, Y/N, there’s somethin’...somethin’ I wanna do ‘fore we head off to dinner.”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sure, hon. Are you alright, though? You’re shaking a bit.”

“’m alright, pumpkin.”

Clyde nods and then, he sinks down onto one knee, wobbling a bit as he adjusts to the new position. He steadies shortly after and then, he pulls the box out of his pocket and opens it up, exposing the ring he spent hours picking out for you.

You’re in shock, hands over your mouth as he smiles up at you, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-I knew when I first met ya that you were gon’ be the woman I wanted to s...spend the rest of ma life with. Y-Yer so funny ‘n kind ‘n so, so beautiful; yer just...yer perfect, p-pumpkin.”

You feel the tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes as he continues, tears now running down his cheeks as well.

“I love y-ya more than life itself, Y/N, an’ I...I wanna spend the rest of ma livin’ days on this planet by yer side. Will ya...will ya marry me?”

Time seems to stand still for Clyde, then, his nerves overwhelming and overtaking his entire being. The seconds between his final word and your response are some of the longest and most anxious seconds of his life, but damnit, they were well worth it.

“Yes, Clyde, yes. O-Of course I’ll marry you.” You say, smiling as he stands to pull you in for a passionate kiss.

He’s overjoyed, really, heart racing but in the best possible way. You said yes. You’re gonna be his wife, his Mrs. Logan.

“God, I love ya.” Clyde whispers against your lips, pulling the ring from its place on the delicate pillow. “I love ya so, so much, Y/N.”

“I love you t-too, Clyde.” You smile, holding your left hand out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you immediately pull him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to marry you, hon, can’t wait to become Mrs. Logan.”

He grins widely, pressing another few kisses onto your lips.

“Mrs. Y/N Logan, ma beautiful wife, ma forever partner.”

You nod, sniffling softly.

“Your forever partner.”

[poshfind]

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