#Nautical Sweater

[loreleinauticaltreasures]

Purchase the best antique jewelleries and many more like bags, clothes, décor items at best prices with Lorelei Nautical Treasures. We are the best online shopping store with many collections like: antique anchor pendant, freaker beer koozie, lorelei jewelry, anchor sweater, nautical tote bags, vintage compass necklace and many more. Shop with us now.

[microwaveexplosion]

[kpop-bbg]

[7birdsfashion]

Will most likely get better pictures later but Heart Sweater Vest got herself a girlfriend 💖🏴‍☠️

[cpahlow]

[denim-bias]

[bdsmsub67]

At the International Yacht Restoration School in Newport, Rhode Island, the intricate, time-honored craft of boatbuilding converges with Ralph Lauren’s commitment to quality and appreciation for nautical heritage

[thecrochetcrowd]

34 Nautical Inspired Crochet and Knit Patterns

Hit The High Seas Project Ideas 34 Nautical Inspired Crochet and Knit For crocheters and knitters, we’ve assembled 34 Nautical Inspired Free Pattern Projects from bags, decor, toys, shawls and clothing. Usually coloured in the iconic red, blue and white theme. Choose from simple projects like a dishcloth or challenge yourself for the seashells or starfish ideas. Free Patterns: 34 Nautical…

[revelisms]

Reve I just need you to know that me and my friends have been talking about sea captain!Secondo all day. It’s catching on!!! Thank you for putting it out into the universe ���

AAA this is everything I could hope for and more 🖤

[lovefingers]

love when i create a new side character and then slowly become obsessed with them

[littlefreya]

Before the Storm

Summary: Gus finds way to keep you warm as you both sail on his boat during April.

Pairing: Major Gustav (Gus) Phillips x Reader (no description)

Word count: 2K

Warnings: 18+, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex (woman receiving), a bit of fingering, teasing, a sweater, a pinch of angst.

A/N: Gus is a character we know nothing about only that he is an unhinged gentleman (?) so I just went with what I felt and oh I hope others will enjoy :). Many thanks to the lovely @captainsy-cookiemonster and @agniavateira for beta and emotional support.

Please reblog with comments if you enjoyed 🖤

Before the Storm

Gus. Gustav. Gustavus. 

Such a timid name for a man who was wilder than the seas he sailed. When you first met Gus, you thought that he was the ocean itself; Untamable, unpredictable, a maelstrom of a man. Little did you know, you were wrong about him; if Gus was anything, it must have been the god of the sea. 

The only thing he was missing was a golden trident. 

Resting on the deck of his yacht with a small plate of local sweets and a book by your side, you watched him through a veiled gaze. The tall man stood at the bow, preparing the boat for the evening sail. You knew very little about nautical travel, but you always enjoyed watching him work on his boat.

Liberats - he called her - the only place he thought of as home. 

His large chocolate curls swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, thin threads of sliver-grey rimming each ringlet, though as the April sun began to set, those fine curls were kissed by vivid hues of purple, orange and pink.  

A deep frown line creased his forehead as he held onto the mast. You entertained yourself at the notion that he had the same exact look when he was hovering and grunting above you. Lightly snorting at the thought, you reached for the plate and grabbed a sweet while continuing to stare. 

“Like what you see?” Gus asked without looking away from the mast. His thick English accent rang through your ears in a melodious tone. He had a way of making everything sound either like poetry or sex.

You ogled him gingerly. In complete contrast to you, who lay in undergarments, Gus donned a chunky grey sweater and dark work trousers. You hated that. It hid what you knew was underneath it. The body of a god. 

“Hmm…” you stretched,  “I haven’t seen enough to decide.”

A slanted smirk tugged his cheek, and he threw a side gaze at you, but his smile fell as he noticed the little shiver in your arms. You weren’t exactly dressed for the season, in fact, you weren’t even dressed for a cruise, but for the time being, simple pair panties and bra sufficed. 

Until they didn’t. 

Not saying another word, he let go of the mast and sauntered toward you, mumbling, “oh, darling,” while already slipping the heavy sweater off. Abs and pecs that might as well have been crafted by a master sculptor glistened in the waning sun. Tanned and sweaty, his skin was like honey. Busy appreciating the view, you didn’t notice the lumpy grey thing that headed toward you at the speed of light until it smacked you in the face.

“Gaws!” Your words were muffled by the sweater that covered your entire head. 

Annoyed, you tugged it away, one brow arched with ire, but your expression softened as Gus’ scent poured upon you; seafoam, salt - fresh and untamed - you inhaled it, inhaled him. 

Unable to resist the urge to be enveloped by his presence, you pulled the sweater on and sighed at the comfort it brought, your fingers clutched onto the collar to hold it closer to your nose and with a deep breath, you took him in. For a moment, you felt yourself slipping into delirium, but then the warm shadow that loomed over your face dragged you back to reality. 

Gus stood over, the breadth of him blocking the sun. Head tilted down, arms crossed together, he observed the treat before him, a crafty grin playing on his lips. 

“Looks better on you than on me.” Hand reached up to his moustache, he twirled its edge between his index and his thumb. “I sure like what I see.” 

You smiled sweetly, your bare legs stretching forward in an invitation. “Too bad this sweater doesn’t cover all of me…” 

His marine-blue gaze followed instantly, a flicker of excitement igniting within them. “Cara Mia, need me to keep you warm?” 

Gus was the type of man who never needed a special invitation. Nor did he ever waited for an answer. Simply, because he always got what we wanted. Gently, he sank to his knees before your feet, and reached for your ankles. His hands were roughed by manning the ropes of the boat and things you didn’t wish to think of, yet his touch was as tender as the caress of a wave as he ran his hands up and down the length of your legs.

“Smooth,” he murmured, “it always stuns me how soft women are.”

Half chuckling, half moaning, you laid back onto the deck, casually reaching for the bowl of sweets and grabbing a piece. Gus’ glare darted at you, watching you nibble while the coarse pads of his fingers glided below your knees, his touch sent a stream of shivers that coursed through your skin, making you tremble in his grip. 

It took every drop of strength to remain composed and not give yourself entirely, you were always afraid of him having too much power over you, and Gus knew that and knew just how to bend you - figuratively and literally. 

His palms smoothed higher with each stroke, kneading your thighs, fingertips reaching close to your heat yet not close enough. Every wave of his touch only left you more frustrated. Wetness pooled at your core, the unmistakable bloom within calling for him in yearning, like a flower opening, awaiting to be seeded, yet he took his time. 

“Still cold?” Gus provoked at how wildly you quivered. 

Lips pressed into a thin line, you swallowed a moan and shook your head, clutching onto the sweater as if it served any protection, but all hell broke loose as, without any warning, he pressed his thumb against the wet fabric of your underwear.

“Fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth.” 

Giving into a shuddering yip, you pushed your pelvis forward, trying to grind into his thumb, only that he pulled back. 

“Gus! Stop this!!!”

“Stop?” His eyes flared comically. “I thought you were enjoying this…”

Ready to throw the book at his stupid face, you frowned, which caused Gus to chuckle before he hooked a finger below the strap of your underwear. “Now…” his voice dropped, and his eyes darkened as if touched by a storm cloud.  “Are you going to say it?”

Already at wit's end, you pouted and let out a breathy, “please...”

He tugged on the strap a little, sliding the garment to the mid of your hips, yet not enough to expose you. “Please, what? Cara Mia?”  

“Please, fuck me.” 

Triumph burnt on his face. Overjoyed that once again he managed to break you, he paused, eyes gliding at every inch of your body while his fangs grazed over his bottom lip. The way he stared at you, you could have sworn that you could feel his touch wherever his gaze landed; your mouth, your breasts, your nipples, the base your belly - he was everywhere, but you needed more. You needed him inside you.  

“No.” 

“No?!” Your cry could be heard across the 7 seas. “What do you mean ‘no’!?” 

“You had your candy, I think I’ll have mine.”

Without any other delay, he yanked on your underwear and threw them over his shoulders. Exposed to the open air, you breathed a shuddering gasp. The chill ocean-breeze blew upon your slit, further storming the tidal-like spasms that swept over you. Still, it was nothing in comparison to the storm that Gus was about to bestow upon you. 

The bearded Adonis looked ethereal as he crawled between your thighs, his curls and brazen bristle tickled your skin. His broad, muscular shoulders flexed in a predatory motion, and his face wore a dark, preying shade to match. Brows knit together, jaw clenched, his fingers dug into your ass, and with a guttural groan, he lowered his head to the valley of your thighs and granted you the sinful kiss of Poseidon. 

Slow, yet not lazy, his mouth drew a languid course between the little pearl above your cove to your inner thighs as if testing the water before plunging in. The touch of his hot lips and coarse bristle was enough to elicit the most desperate yelps from you, and like a siren washed up on the shore, you writhed for your god, begging for salvation.

It wasn’t as if Gus didn’t know every inch of your body, yet still, he revelled at the different cries that escaped you as his mouth marked different parts of your flesh, almost as if it was a game to him, as if you were a toy he examined and coaxed to his whims until you were completely broken and at his mercy. It was only then when you were bent and vulnerable, that’s he would tear you completely apart.

With his breath hot on your flesh, he hummed against your clit. Legs quaking, you prepared yourself for yet another tender kiss, only that instead, you felt the wet glide of his tongue teasing your flesh. Once, then twice, his velvety serpent stroked and twirled. The third time he wrapped his lips around the tender nub and suckled with every ounce of love he felt toward you. 

Inarticulate sounds followed from your throat, your toes curled as the spasming jolts of ecstasy flowed all across your body. He brought you near impulsion, but he wasn’t done playing with you just yet. Grunting, he slipped the edge of his tongue between your swollen petals, pressing just enough to provoke you, yet not enough to bring you undone. 

You wanted to scream his name but found that you had no words. Instead, you heaved and cried breathlessly, your head pressing to the wooden deck beneath you, eyes wide open, staring at the seagulls floating in the air. In the open ocean, everyone could see you. Everyone and no one. You were one with the gods and the sea creatures and you sure as hell writhed as if you were drowning on dry land. 

Appeased by your helplessness, Gus locked his strong arms around your thighs, holding you spread open and in place as he finally dove his tongue inside you. 

“Fuck!” Your back arched against the surface. Tears of joy brimmed in your eyes as Gus fucked you ardently with his tongue. Over and over, he plunged into your cove, groaning and savouring the dew that dripped from it as if it was a feast. 

As greedy as they come, he wanted to devour you; there wasn’t a single patch of skin he hadn’t laved, kissed or suckled. Even while his tongue wreaked havoc on your clenching cunt, his mouth continued to suckle upon your swollen lips with little hums of delight that vibrated through you. 

It wasn’t fair. He brought you on the verge of pleasure on despair. You felt the storm within you rage; violent waves of pleasure gushed and surged, begging to be unleashed. Knowing your body so well, Gus wrapped one sturdy arm around your belly, held your mound to his hungry mouth, and finally, took his fingers and buried them deep inside you to force you into ecstasy. 

Climax shattered through you in several electric currents that continued to hit. Each one stronger than the other  Still convulsing in ecstasy, you lifted your eyes to Gus.  The last rays of sunlight glazed around him in a golden aura. For a moment there, you imagined him as the lord of the ocean, who, in his fury, pierced his trident at the ocean’s bed and split it apart. 

Split you apart.

Spent, you fell back to the deck with a deep sigh, your eyes gazing aimlessly at the evening sky while you snuggled Gus’ sweater around you. The moon had already risen, surrounded by a shy group of gleaming stars resembling precious pearls embroidered on a blue dress. Memories of childhood sprang to mind; summer days in the sun, when you floated carless over the waves. 

“Are you alright?” Gus moved to lie beside you. His knuckles brushed your cheek in a tender caress.

You nodded weakly, your breath still hitched from the intensity of the pleasure he wrought from you. 

“Speak, Cara Mia,” Gus asked gently and, with a small pinch around your chin, brought you to stare at him. "I need to hear you say it."

Quiet, you stared back, your lower lip parted, but no words came as you studied his face. The little wrinkles around his eyes and the silver tainted his beard made him look somehow pure. So pure, it broke your heart to think that once you dock again, you will have to take off the masks and costumes you wore and be who you really were - soldiers fighting to liberate the world and Gus, as spirited and wild as he was, would never be free, never be able to fully commit to anyone other than his cause.

Still, you loved him.

Enough to follow him into hell. 

[paranoia0612]

nautical style lookbook with Noah

look 1: blazer | pants

look 2: shirt | pants | watch | ring

look 3: sweater | shorts

look 4: sweatshirt | pants

credits: @chanel, @toksik, @edra, @gorillax3-cc, @lindasims2, @darte77, @nikaonishko, @ooobsooo2, @0201-sims, @NataliS, @daisy-pixels

[cipherswilldatabase]

Event: Beautiful Dreamers

Chapter 01 - Gideon Gleeful

Chapter 02 - Pacifica Northwest

Chapter 03 - Dipper Pines

Chapter 04 - Wendy Corduroy

Chapter 05 - Stanley Pines

Chapter 06 - Jesus Ramirez

Chapter 07 - Mabel Pines

Chapter 08 - Fiddleford H. McGucket

Chapter 09 - Robbie Valentino

Chapter 10 - Stanford Pines

Dreams are something of a mystery. No one, not a single scientist, knows why we dream. Are we simply filtering through memories as we sleep? Are our subconscious trying to tell us something? Or are we tapping into a realm beyond our reality?

=============================================

While Ford has always had sleeping issues – mostly due to mild insomnia and overnight studying, both Stan and Fiddleford could testify – his stint with Bill and dealing with multiverse horrors had given the six-fingered man a fear of sleeping. 

It was as vulnerable as you can get, both in the physical and astral/mental plane.

It took the joint effort of Stan and Ford to get the latter some well overdue rest weeks into their boating trip. Granted, Ford would sometimes be stubborn about it if something he was fixated on got his entire attention. But, if there was a sign of Ford getting sleepy, Stan would talk his brother into their room to take a nap on Stan’s bottom bunk.

▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△

Ford had taken notice of the different changes to his dreamscape.

His first time there was that of starry space, marked by words and equations and a plethora of books, when he first encountered Bill Cipher. It wouldn’t be until sometime later that he learned this was just the upper half of his mindscape.

On ground level, there was golden wheat as far as the eye could see. In the sky, endless stars, constellations, and galaxies.

After the creation of the portal and the entering of said portal, he could no longer see the starry sky above, blocked by the oppressive smog that coated the skies. He was also surrounded by three reminders of his greatest failures and mistakes: A broken dream, a torn bond, and the loss of a friend.

Now…after everything…things were different. 

The broken down portal was still present in the distance, but it no longer casted a looming shadow in Ford’s mindscape. The sky was no longer obscured, revealing the brilliantly starry sky, somehow much more vibrant than before, the original Stan o’ War was repaired, and small blue flowers decorated the swing set. There are a few new additions. 

In the starry sky are constellations, but not the classic 88 ones Ford recognizes from his home dimension. And already lined, too. He still needs time to study them, but of the ones he could decipher…A six-fingered hand, a needle (?), a nautical compass, a pen (or pencil), a cube…and a triangle with an ‘X’...

In a spot within the wheat cleaned away for a couple of shelves containing numerous books and a table containing a DD&MoreD board and a chair with a vibrant sweater hung limply.

While Ford was enjoying the new look…he couldn’t shake off a sense of unease.

A black book fell from one of the shelves. Ford approached the fallen tome and went to pick it up and put it back. The moment he touched black leather, an ice cold chill surged through him. He turned the book around and – in the middle of a triangle – a crimson eye opened on the cover and stared directly at him.

He dropped the book like it burned him and it opened itself and the pages flipped from an unknown source. 

Ford looked at his hands – sources of his pride and disdain – shaking and black veins were becoming visible as small, triangular particles manifested.

He can feel the veins spreading in his body, like a parasite…

More crimson eyes made themselves known around Ford. Each and every one of them looked at him.

The air around grew dark…the sky above turned red and cracked…the eyes continued to stare…

And he regrettably stared back and shuddered as he somehow saw himself within the black of a slitted pupil.

Those black veins have reached his face…

He was just as red as all of the eyes…

And…his right eye…the white turned black and his blue iris a deadly crimson and slitted…

And bleeding?

▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△-▽△▽△▽△▽△▽△

After having a nap of his own on deck, Stan went to their room to check on Ford.

The elder twin was still sound asleep and Stan was just going to leave it at that. Every moment of rest was precious for them. That is until Stan noticed a look on Ford’s face, as he was facing away from the wall.

There was a look on Ford’s face, his forehead and brows bunched together, his nose would twitch, and there was a faint hint of a snarl curling his upper lip. Whatever Ford was dreaming…it wasn’t pleasant.

As much as Stan wanted to wake Ford…he felt he shouldn’t. The scientist had already gone through an all-nighter and Stan didn’t want to interrupt this sleep. Instead, he tip-toed his way to the bottom and carefully - as best as he could - lowered down to take a seat on the mattress and hope that the shift in weight doesn’t wake Ford. Stan reached over and started carding his fingers through Ford’s dark gray curls and prayed that this would soothe his brother’s mind.

Stan felt both pride and relief when he heard Ford’s breathing even out and his face relaxed. Stan closed his eyes, still stroking his brother’s head and just enjoying this silent moment.

A small drop of blood trickled from Ford’s right eye and stained Stan’s pillow.

=============================================

X QXPQB LC TEXQ FP QL ZLJB.

[generalzar0ff]

Most of this was drawn in September of last year, but I decided to finally complete it!

So, here are the penguins of Madagascar and their lemur friends as humans!

I know this has been done to death already, but I wanted to provide my own interpretation. I’ll provide my design choices for each character under the cut, if anybody’s interested!

Skipper: I do not want to throw shade to anyone, but most of the human Skippers I’ve seen are either too young, too skinny, or too muscular. This guy may present himself as an authority figure, but let’s face it: this guy is your average middle-aged man with a fascination for cool spy stuff and repressed bisexuality. Trust me, my dad knows all about it. Anyway, I gave him a tacky nautical flag shirt, mostly because i couldn’t find any high-quality “hawaiian shirt with wwii planes” patterns. If it weren’t for King Julien’s design, I would’ve given Skipper aviators.

Kowalski: Typical nerdy guy. When I was showing a work in progress of the penguins, a friend of mine suggested that Kowalski’s hairline should be extra receded, and they were right. I know that this is the simplest design, but that’s because this guy just doesn’t seem the type for style. More of a practicality and formality guy. I suppose now’s a good time to mention that each of the brothers has an element of orange around their feet, cuz, well, the penguins have orange feet.

Rico: I really hope you guys get the energy that this guy listens to nu-metal. Since human beings not infused with cartoon animal wackiness cannot regurgitate convenient items, I decided to give human Rico a bunch of pockets from which cartoon HUMAN wackiness can occur. His outfit is also a bit more military-like than the others, what with the bomber jacket, cargo shorts, and combat boots. I also gave him what is essentially the boss floss from Splatoon 3’s amiibo gear.

Private: According to Penguin Lore™️, they’re all brothers, but Private is adopted, hence why he’s a bit younger [but not a child!] and I gave him a different hair texture and skin tone. His shirt has an icon from his favorite show, a Lunacorn. I also made his blue nail polish match its eyes. I take honor in the fact that a friend told me “I have several transmasc friends who look like this”.

Maurice: A lot of people who draw TPOM gijinkas don’t even draw him, which is a shame, because I love Maurice. Even more offensive is that some people don’t even depict him as an old black man, which goes against everything I know to be true in my heart. Anyway, he seems like the type to enjoy autumn/winter gear, so I gave him a big ol’ trench coat, as well as a scarf that looks like his fur puff. And the newsie cap just felt right.

King Julien: Here’s where all the flashiness went! According to an actor whom I have a personal vendetta against and thus will not name, Julien’s accent is Sri Lankan, so I took inspiration from their traditional clothing for his outfit, albeit more “cunty”, as today’s kids call it. It was imperative that this man has his toes out for obvious reasons, so I gave him sandals. I honestly have no good explanation for the leopard print leggings other than it came to me in a divine vision. Or something. The sunglasses mimic the color of his eyes!

Mort: Look, it was really hard for me not to just draw Molière from Atlantis: The Lost Empire, since his design is already kind of what I imagine this fellow looking like as a “human”. Admittedly, I’m not too proud of this design, but i think it gets the job done. His outfit purposely clashes: a matching hat and sweater, but with sweatpants, and he’s not even wearing shoes! I know the original Mort doesn’t have any purple in his design, but I felt like its inclusion made him look a little weirder. And then there’s his eyes. Yeah.

Hope this wasn’t too long, and thank you to anyone who read this portion of the post!

[jaybirdbleu]

the antennae make all the difference

(to any avid arthropod lovers, i apologize. this is actually deranged commentary on a sweater. i am so sorry for any inconvenience and wish you a lovely rest of your day!)

so. i am a fan of mads mikkelsen. i am also a fan of creatures with hard, crunchy exoskeletons, as well. and i need to clear the air. it's a lobster, not a scorpion!

and, yes, i am talking about this (rather fantastic) sweater.

upon first glance, i thought that i was looking at a lovely purple sweater with some abstract, geometric shapes. which was exciting. but then i realized...a lobster!

then i popped over to instagram this morning and saw that people were identifying our clawed friend as a scorpion. a scorpion?

though this may just be an instagram problem and, perhaps, everyone on tumblr can tell their land and sea buggies apart, i thought we should go over some anatomy!

(disclaimer: i am not an expert on either lobsters or scorpions, i just think they're neat!)

with a quick once-over, the lobster and the scorpion have very similar structures, as long as we disregard their "tails" (which we will, as the tail of our mystery arthropod is likely tucked away in mr. mikkelsen's waistband). they each have "claws" (pincers or pedipalps), a segmented abdomen, and four pairs of walking legs. so how do we tell the difference?

the lobster has two (he actually has four, but we're focusing on the big ones) very large, distinct antennae! our scorpion pal does not!

breaking this down, further, we can see that, though this is a stylized and abstracted version, this sweater clearly depicts a lobster! it has antennae and the antennae make all the difference!

also. he's on a boat. why would they dress him in a scorpion sweater for a nautical themed photoshoot?

[emptyjunior]

Met gala themes I would pick cause woof we've had some rough ones huh

Horror

I am definitely not the first to bring up this theme but I do feel like it has the best shot so I'm honourable mentioning it first. The opportunity for guests to go victim or slasher, the haunted aspects, the opportunities for construction with their Killer outfits, there's just so Much here, banger theme.

Nautical

Maybe I want to see someone in a big ol yellow raincoat and a beard. Is that too much to ask.

But honestly a lot of fashion history has been inspired by naval themes, sailor uniforms, bucket hats, knit sweaters, working with rubber/waterproof coatings. And you could always get crazy with it and go the mermaid/sea monster/eldritch horror from the depths route as well. (And yes I suppose pirates too but I feel like Anna might eat someone alive like the spirited away guy if they came dressed as a pirate).

Maximalist

Am I just rehashing camp, yes, do I still want it, yes. I feel like the gala has been struggling for a Lot of years now with public perception, I think we're all aware how problematic an event uplifting the wealthy and famous can feel at this point. But I think they can go just fully on the nose, let people know they're Aware of it and be in on the joke. An event showcasing gluttony, heaped on patchworks and colours, mounds of accessories, cartoonish layers of jewels and chains. Just fully embracing it (and the smart designers will Know how to do some interesting dialogue with it).

Hallyu/Korean wave

This one makes me nervous cause with American celebrities there are bound to be some Blunders if we venture into this territory but I do still want to put it on the list. The reality is, South Korean culture is what's Now. It's In. It's the Zeitgeist. Music, tv, fashion. And I think it might be nice to see the "leaders" of the fashion industry acknowledge that in some concrete way. There's korean street style, there's prep/simple style. And hanboks/traditional style have a lot of really cool forms and materials you can base your construction on.

Teddy Boys/Teddy Girls

I KNOW it's way too niche but I Want it. I feel like there's a way to do it that would be so celebratory of androgy and I just feel like it will resonate with the working class of the day. I want subversion, I want a subculture of roaming youth finding identity in a post-war world and I want Silk Neckerchiefs. Also the style is based in Italian fashion so im sure all the big fashion houses will be able to do Something with that.