#soft hat

[latinamericanboutique]

Warm Hand Knit Alpaca Beanie Hat | Natural Colors

Discover this exquisitely designed alpaca beanie hat, meticulously hand-knit and available in these beautiful newtral colors. Created with the finest Peruvian alpaca blend wool, this hat is perfect for both snowboarding enthusiasts and those who appreciate a relaxed style. The fitted design guarantees a comfortable fit for everyone, ensuring that you can enjoy all the benefits of this exceptional hat.

- Hand knitted alpaca beanie hat

- Warm, soft, and comfortable

- Colorful unisex cap

- Made of alpaca

Measurements:

Head circumference: stretches from 18 inches (46cm) to 20 inches (51cm)

Length from top to bottom: 9 inches / 23cm

Care Instructions:

- Gently Hand wash

- Do not wring

- Lay flat to dry

- Do not tumble dry

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1142237021/warm-hand-knit-alpaca-beanie-hat-soft?utm_source=nembol&utm_medium=api&utm_campaign=api

[queerdraws]

projecting on luffy again. get bited.

[arinmoss]

Sam!

[horechattalove]

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・ °☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・ °☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・ °☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・ °☆:*・ °☆*・ *・

[yardsards]

the owl house really said "familial love is stored in a gifted garment"

EDIT: forgot one! thanks @cat-eared-exam-taker

[ballpitwitch]

KEANU REEVES | DON'T QUIT YOUR DAY DREAM | FENDER

[kassasnek]

Favouritism: a case study by Usopp

Also known as, my Zolu brainrot continues

[greyskyflowers]

Zoro being just a little desperate for soft affection because people don't touch him gently. He's not something people handle with care or touch with careful intentions.

He's a swordsman

The first mate of the future pirate king and a god

A strawhat pirate

He doesn't mind it, because you can't miss something you don't really know, but sometimes he gets hints of it. Like Chopper taking care of his injuries or Robin's hands brushing against him as she hands him something. The others don't touch gently. They're pirates, liars, thieves and fighters.

It's hard to be gentle on the sea.

Luffy's too strong for his own good

Sanji's alway eager to pick a fight

Nami's not very familiar with gentleness herself

Usopp's too unsure

Franky doesn't trust himself

Brook doesn't think he's capable of it anymore

Zoro deserves gentle sometimes though, when he's more white bandages than tan skin or when he smells like blood rather than salt.

Sometimes he looks very breakable for how unbreakable he is.

There are times he looks soft, only with them.

When he lets himself wake up slowly, silver eye still cloudy with sleep and everything about him sleep ruffled and soft.

Or when he speaks with Chopper, letting his body loosen from a stricter hold and creating a welcoming atmosphere that always has Chopper climbing into his lap or dancing happily.

Always when he takes care of his swords, each movement done without too much thought after years of repetition. A critical eye looking them over before moving to the next, handled with a care that looks like it should be unnatural to a man like Zoro.

He goes sweet for them.

Looking as surprised as they do when he surges towards the gentle affection like he can't stop himself.

💙

Luffy throwing his arm around Zoro's shoulders, and touching, thoughtless and confident because he knows Zoro won't pull away. His fingers playing with earrings, petting at soft hair and brushing against skin.

Zoro can't help the little, protesting noise that slips out when it stops.

Luffy looks at him with a blank expression and observing eyes, the face he wears when he's serious about something. He returns his hand to the side of Zoro's neck and it's so careful, fingers caressing against his neck in little brushes and it has him melting.

Luffy's incredibly pleased because Zoro is such a warm, happy weight against his side, all loose limbed and practically purring.

He looks vulnerable and sleepy in a way that has a bubble of something growing in Luffy's chest. It threatens to choke him, his throat tight with it and his heart beating weird. He just keeps petting with confident but gentle touches.

Zoro buries his face in his shoulder and it knocks the wind out of his lungs. He wants to move, energy popping under his skin in happiness but he stays still. The arms he wraps around Zoro to drag him closer, half on his lap and still not close enough, are gentle.

💙

Sanji trying to figure out the best way to get Zoro back to the crew after a battle. Hovering because everywhere looks bruised and bloody, seriously it's like he tries to get cut up during his fights.

Finally getting him up enough that he can climb on Sanji's back and they'll try that way.

Zoro's lighter than he looks, they all know that but it's always a little surprising. He's quick on his feet, has used half the crew as spring boards for a push off in fights and he definitely wouldn't be able to do that so easily if he weighed what he looks.

He's a warm weight against Sanji's back and the cook can feel his thighs from where he's got his hands placed for support, they have a healthy layer of fat covering the muscle.

He's embarrassed by the pleased feeling he gets from that. The idea that Zoro is healthy and taken care of because of him is powerful. He's very proud of how the crew looks healthy and strong, nothing about them that suggests hunger or poor nutrition.

He brushes his thumb back and forth in a gentle way, briefly wishing he felt skin instead of fabric, before very quickly shoving that thought into a little box and placing it all the way to the back of his mind.

Zoro relaxes into him, body pressing heavier as he stops tensing up and his chin digging into Sanji's shoulder. He looks exhausted but his breathing has calmed and he almost looks like he could fall asleep.

Sanji just tugs him more securely against his back, desperately ignoring the way Zoro's legs tightens around his waist at the movement and how his chest pressing against Sanji's back has his nose itching. Zoro relaxes again and Sanji goes back to rubbing his thumbs back and forth, gentle and comforting.

💙

100% based on the ideas that:

Luffy just casually touches, hugs, climbs on, etc the crew whenever he wants because they're his.

Sanji is very proud that the crew looks healthy and strong, knowing it's because he's the one making their food.

Zoro being a strange type of touch starved that has him unconsciously giving off cat vibes of please pet me and I'm sorry if I get overwhelmed and bite.

[judasisgayriot]

love will tear us apart

[helsensm]

If you’re still taking requests, Mk1 Kung Lao meets Mk11 Kung Lao?

I will use this ask to finish the wip I had since November, thank you anon <3

[blousquidly]

“Cool off, dude”

Blou and Squid at the beach, doing… literally nothing

[mangoo-fruit]

[ryllen]

the possibility of putting hat on spouse

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

[herewegobebe]

KEY | ✈ Departure 231212 [x]

[thatsrightice]

Val Kilmer on the set of Top Gun (1986)