#custom jacket inspiration

[meelsport]

The Ultimate Guide to Custom Jackets: Easy Tips for Kids

Introduction Imagine wearing a jacket that’s totally unique and all about you! That’s what custom jackets are all about—they show off your personal style and creativity. These special jackets are super popular because they’re like a piece of art you can wear. When I was a kid, I saw my older brother decorate his denim jacket with patches from concerts and cool designs. That jacket became a part…

[busra-tr]

TIMELESS Denim Revolution Part 1 (AUG #2)

Hey there, lovely followers!

We are thrilled to introduce our brand new collection, Timeless Denim Revolution, crafted with love by Busra-tr, Mermalade, and Daph's! ����

This collection features a total of 10 unique pieces, with 6 of them being different denim designs that are sure to become wardrobe staples. Each piece is carefully designed to bring out the timeless elegance and versatility of denim, making sure you can stay stylish and comfortable at the same time.

Timeless Denim Revolution is a two-part collection, and today, we are excited to release the first part just for you! The first part of the collection includes a minimalist polo shirt paired with an asymmetric denim skirt, a little black dress with a stylish denim jacket, and a loose denim dress with a chic belt detail. In this collection, we are offering you both package files and blend files to enhance your experience. Rediscover your style with our new collection and add a touch of denim sophistication to your wardrobe! 🔥

These stunning pieces are now available! Visit our pages to explore the first part of the collection and find your favorites.

PART 1 LOOKS;

10 Opitons

_________

Adult-Elder-Teen-Young Adult

For Female

————–

Compatible with HQ mod-

New Mesh

All Lods

Custom thumbnail

Early Access ( Avaible 24.11.2024)

**-Please do not re upload or claim as yours feel free to re color but do not include the mesh .

DOWNLOAD PATREON

MERMALADE'S LOOK;

→DOWNLOAD←  

 DAPH'S LOOK;

→DOWNLOAD←

Thanks to @saffirabluu for these amazing photos 💗

I hope you like them.  ♥

💖 You can check out my Patreon for special cc and other early access content. 💖

[larrylimericks]

12Jul24

Three hundred and fifty-six days Since last we saw Harry on stage, But tonight a duet! For Ms. Nicks’ Hyde Park set, And a Songbird who’s now flown away.

[mermaladesims]

Timeless Denim Revolution Part 1

Hey there, lovely followers!

We are thrilled to introduce our brand new collection, Timeless Denim Revolution, crafted with love by Busra-tr, Mermalade, and Daph's! 🎉

This collection features a total of 10 unique pieces, with 6 of them being different denim designs that are sure to become wardrobe staples. Each piece is carefully designed to bring out the timeless elegance and versatility of denim, making sure you can stay stylish and comfortable at the same time.

Timeless Denim Revolution is a two-part collection, and today, we are excited to release the first part just for you! The first part of the collection includes a minimalist polo shirt paired with an asymmetric denim skirt, a little black dress with a stylish denim jacket, and a loose denim dress with a chic belt detail. In this collection, we are offering you both package files and blend files to enhance your experience. Rediscover your style with our new collection and add a touch of denim sophistication to your wardrobe! 🔥

These stunning pieces are now available! Visit our pages to explore the first part of the collection and find your favorites.

Ribbed Polo Shirt

- New Mesh

- All Lods

- 20 Swatches

- Custom thumbnail

- Compatible with HQ mod

Asymmetric Denim Skirt

- New Mesh

- All Lods

- 15 Swatches

- Custom thumbnail

- Compatible with HQ mod

DOWNLOAD (INGAME)

DOWNALOAD (BLEND) 

PATREON SHOP

BUSRA-TR'S LOOK

DOWNLOAD

DAPH'S LOOK

DOWNLOAD

 Terms of Use

Please do not claim as yours.

Don't re-upload my creations to other sites.

You can't recolor it.

Conversion Not Allowed

Conversion Not Allowed to sims and other games

Do not put in any pack

None of the files may be reproduced, copied or distributed

You can find me:

Tumblr: Click

Instagram:  Click

The Sims Resource (TSR): Click

Patreon: Click

Secondlife: Click

[danothan]

in my beautiful mind, barry allen is a golden retriever that needs a slow feeder dog bowl to eat

[yesperono]

Hey op? Your shirts are really cool

diy punk shirts for riot grrrls, goths, and lesbians

[thomsonsharon347]

Runway-Inspired Jacket Trends: Add High Fashion Flair to Your Everyday Outfits!

Are you looking for wholesale jackets in bulk? Contact Oasis Jackets, the leading jacket manufacturer in USA, Australia, UAE and Europe.

[creeds-projects]

I hate collars.

I though this one would be ok, but no. Even a straight strip of cloth was an absolute pain. Took three tries and two unpickings to get it to lay reasonably flat.

This process took three whole evenings.

First attempt.. I even tacked it down carefully, not relying on just pins.

(Yes, I used my ironing ham to help hold the shape I wanted around the neckline. Didn’t help.)

So bumpy….

I found the easiest way was to iron the collar strip first. Put in the two folds to hide the raw edges, and measure out the middle fold so the right side was the same width all along. This also helped stiffen the fabric and hold it straight and prevent weird wrinkles when I machined it into place.

The entire length of collar fabric was already stiffened with iron-on interfacing. But ironing in the folds really helped with stabalising the entire thing.

Finally!

Yes there were two ‘weird’ spots. I unpicked the seam and re-did it on the machine. Problem solved!

Next time this whole process should be much easier.

This was also the point I decided to turn this project into the jacket, and intend to re-make this whole garment as a top in a different fabric to match the skirt I’m planning. I must be either mad, or a masochist.

[greenllamas]

The Downtown Collection (13 items) | greenllamas

The Downtown Collection is a 13 item set inspired by autumnal metropolitan street style and aesthetics. Let your sims live out their wattpad fantasies of being the “mysterious sim on the train”

This collection includes:

2 Hairs

3 Tops

2 Bottoms

2 Pairs of shoes

4 accessories (including an accessory jacket)

notes:

All items have LODs, shadows, spec, and bumps + custom thumbnails so you should be able to find everything in the same place as the rest of my stuff in CAS.

All items are tagged as feminine

For more details on how many swatches each item has + the names visit the item index linked below.

If there are any issues with the items PLEASE let me know and I will try to get them fixed asap!

DOWNLOAD (free)  | Item Index | Discord

[wishful-sinful-9]

Could I request some lumberjack Logan? Wolverine Origins movie was inspired to have a 1970s Logan lumberjack in the Canadian Rockies

I've been eyeing up this request since I received it so here's some thoughts I have 👀

You're working in a diner in this little town, earning barely enough to afford rent for the tiny apartment you live in where nothing stays unbroken for long. Nevertheless, the view of the mountains is breathtaking, the air fresh, the people friendly.

Then, one morning, Logan steps through the door.

He's all thick dark hair, muscles bulging through the sleeves of his flannel shirt, eyes intense and trained on you.

You ask him if he'd like a menu, flushing as you can't quite meet his gaze. He declines, asks for a simple black coffee.

As you dart off to fetch a fresh pot, he wonders how the hell he'd lived this long around this tiny town and managed to miss you. Smiling at your regulars, playing The Beatles on the jukebox, humming along as you serve customers.

Logan begins to come to the diner nearly every morning.

You start chatting, getting to know eachother, and you let slip your sink is broken. Logan grunts, "I'll fix it." And ignores when you insist it's a non-issue.

You put on your Joan Baez record and drink a beer on your couch, squirming a little at the idea of a man being in your space.

"Fixed," Logan states, picking up his jacket. You insist he stays for dinner.

When he leaves, he tells you to let him know when something else breaks, so you do.

You now have a handy man who only accepts home-cooked meals as repayment for his services. You wonder if you should be weary of this gruff, grumbling, cigar-smoking, emotionally distant man who shows up at your door in under ten minutes when you call. But somehow you aren't.

You go on a walk one day and pass the site Logan works on. It's a hot August day, so he's wearing a white tank top - you spot him through the trees, a light sheen of sweat on his skin, the muscles in his back and arm working in such a way it makes your entire body flush hot.

When he catches sight of you on the path, he sets down his axe and trudges towards you, much to your horror. Oh god, he must have seen you staring!

He looms over you, face expressionless. Your knees feel weak.

"I noticed a fault in your plumbing. I'll come by later to fix it." he simply says.

"Okay," you squeak.

When he returns to his work, you having hurried on down the path, he is greeted by the grinning faces of his coworkers.

"Who was that?" "Didn't know you had someone at home, Logan!" "Lucky man, did you see her ti-"

"Shut it." he barks, and picks up his axe.

He tries his best not to think about how good you looked in that little sundress of yours.

Think I'm going to expand on this more!! If anyone has any ideas/thoughts abt lumberjack!logan feel free to drop them in my ask box ;)

[theradiojunkie]

Thank you for the tag @prxm-queeen !! :D

Gonna go ahead and make a new post as it was getting long again :P

Steal something from my room!

@sordidseraphim @randomslinky @microwavedlion

[yourmidnightlover]

the story

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

w/c: 3.5k+

summary: the weeks following bucky ordering that steve be your bodyguard, followed by an insightful night at a gala with your beloved husband.

warnings: mention of the incident with john (groping), slight threats of violence, mention of fear, lip on lip action (the upstairs ones), if i've missed anything please let me know!!

a/n: hiii! the third installment of my forever? series! i didn't even intend for this to be more than one part, but you guys have inspired me to write more for it! my writing schedule is a bit off since i recently started a new job, but i'll try to be a bit consistent with it. i hope you guys enjoy this next part, more to come!

part 2 -> control

the first few weeks with steve as a bodyguard wasn’t too bad. he was actually kinda funny in a grandpa kinda way, and he was an amazing listener. you had bounced a few ideas for your book off of him and he seemed to be very intrigued by some of the plot points you had planned. he even promised to be one of the first customers, right behind bucky (which you may have rolled your eyes at), of course, as long as he was promised a signed copy.

but, at the two month mark you began to miss your independence. of course, the chef bucky had hired was amazing and had years of experience in italian cuisine, but sometimes a girl just wanted some greasy smash burger to chow down on. most nights you ate alone with steve until bucky walked through the front door. 

he always seemed beaten down and tired, as though work was more straining than usual. he would shrug his jacket off, place it on the hook by the door, then his shoes on the rack, and walk upstairs to shower before coming downstairs to eat as you and steve were finishing your plates. you tried your best to start conversation, to be the best company you could but eventually the silence always grew awkward and steve would usher you to go upstairs to your room with a pressed smile. 

after two months of not really needing to show you off i any way, there was an important gala for him to attend. of course, that means that you were to be his beloved arm candy for the night. 

“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 

“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 

“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 

“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 

“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 

“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.

“so a sage green?” 

“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 

there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 

but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 

at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 

growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 

and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 

because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 

it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 

-

“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 

“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.

“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 

you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 

the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 

alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…

“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 

“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 

“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 

the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 

“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”

you chuckled at the compliment. 

“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”

he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 

you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 

but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…

“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 

“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.

this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 

“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 

“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”

“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 

“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 

“what are you-”

“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.

meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?

“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 

“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 

“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”

it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 

for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.

to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 

“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.

“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”

“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 

“get what?”

“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.

steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 

“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 

steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”

bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.

“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“you told her about-”

“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”

you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 

“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 

“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 

oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 

“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 

“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”

you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 

“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 

“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”

the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…

so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 

when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 

“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”

“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”

“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 

“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 

the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.

“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 

he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 

he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 

when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 

“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”

“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 

“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”

“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”

“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”

were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?

tags:

@blackbirdwitch22

@onceithough

@learisa

@mrsnikstan

@cjand10

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@armystay89

@adesum

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@loki-laufeyson68

if you'd like to be added to the tag list, please just leave a comment or message me!

[nyc-looks]

Nick, 27

“I’m wearing a thrifted 70s cream hopsack jacket, an Andover shop tie that was gifted to me by my friend Zoë, a custom Alfargos Marketplace butcher stripe shirt, ring jacket trousers, and Beaudoin and Lange slippers. All of the jewelry is vintage or made for me by friends. The glasses are 70s frames by Silhouette. My style is very inspired by musicians and artists of the 60s and 70s. I always find myself dressing somewhere between Bob Dylan, Yves Saint Laurent, and Andy Warhol. I run a vintage market so I feel like it suits me!”

Aug 23, 2024 ∙ Gramercy

[oakiyo]

Evergreen Collection:

Initially inspired by the TikTok ‘clean girl’ aesthetic, I present 8 new pieces of custom content! Drawing inspiration from the iconic ZARA jacket, to parachute cargos, and the sleek bun seen countless of times on social media, I intended on making some essentials for your sims game, whilst also branching out and experimenting with different styles. I hope you enjoy this collection!🧥🌲

Information about each item is underneath the cut.

Download Here | Patreon | Twitter

Item Information (left to right):

1. Tiffany Hair:

Base game compatible, 24 EA swatches, all maps, all LOD’s, hat compatible.

2. Alex Beanie:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

3. Serenity Sweater:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

4. Regina Jeans:

Base game compatible, 21 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

21 swatches in @caelhinn Cotton Jar palette.

5. Liv Parachute Cargos:

Base game compatible, 20 swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

20 swatches in a custom palette.

6. Brie Jacket:

Base game compatible, 10 leather swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

Sweater accessory found in gloves category with 20 swatches in a custom palette.

7. Belle Earrings:

Base game compatible, 6 metal swatches, all maps, all LOD’s.

8. Layla Hair:

Base game compatible, 24 EA swatches, all maps, all LOD’s, hat compatible.

Bandanna accessory file found in hats category to recolour in 20 swatches in a custom palette.

Credits and End Bits:

Please report any issues you have with this collection (or any custom content of mine) via a Tumblr direct message, including photos of your issue.

A massive thank you to @qicc for the continued help and support with my custom content endeavours, it is greatly appreciated!

Thank you to @greenllamas for helping (and teaching me) with the texturing.

Thank you guys very much for the continued support you have shown me, it’s truly unbelievable! I hope you enjoy this collection as much as I do. It was a real labour of love making this and I am so happy with the end results!

If you use any of my custom content, please tag me or use “#oakiyo”, I’d love to see your sims wearing my stuff!

[wholoveseggs]

Stains {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} One spilled coffee, one ruined suit, and one infuriating man you can’t seem to avoid...

♡♡ Uh oh I wrote another series! Inspired by the many requests I get for another enemies to lovers fic ~ This is essentially a highly caffeinated version of Misbehavior ~xoxo ♡♡

3.7k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, eventual smut (duh), Elijah being Elijah about his suits, reader with a sharp tongue and a penchant for swearing, so so so much antagonistic banter, class dynamics, Elijah being a control freak (it’s his kink) && the tragic loss of a cappuccino...

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble

It was one of those mornings where everything felt hazy, like your body was running on autopilot while your brain lagged behind. You were going through the motions, getting ready for work, but it all felt distant.  

Finally, as you stood in line at the local café, you began to wake up fully. Glancing at your phone, you checked the time. You were cutting it close, but if you hurried, you could still make it.  

When it was your turn, you stepped up to the counter and ordered your usual. While waiting, you observed the morning rush: people in business suits, jeans, or workout gear shuffled in and out, the chaos oddly comforting. You tried to keep your irritation in check as a few impatient customers jostled their way ahead of you.  

At last, you grabbed your cappuccino and headed out the door, your eyes flicking to the clock on your phone again. Damn, you were going to be late.  

You picked up your pace, speed-walking down the sidewalk. Cursing under your breath, you glanced back down at your phone… just as you collided with someone.  

Hot liquid splashed everywhere, soaking through your shirt and bra. You hissed in pain, looking up to find the man you'd crashed into. His suit jacket and dress shirt were also drenched in coffee.  

He glared at you, his dark eyes murderous. He didn't say a word as he yanked off his jacket and attempted to blot at the stain, which only seemed to spread.  

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurted, fumbling to pull out your wallet. “Here, let me pay for your dry cleaning. I’m really sorry.”  

You went to pull out some cash, but he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Dry cleaning? No. You will pay for a replacement," he said with cold disdain.  

His attitude pissed you off. He was just as much at fault as you were, yet he had this entitled, pretentious air about him that made your blood boil.  

“It’s just coffee. It’ll come out with the right cleaner,” you said, trying to keep the bite out of your voice.  

“It’s a custom-tailored vintage Italian wool suit. Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, his jaw ticking as he glared at you.  

“Well, maybe you should pay more attention to where you’re walking if you’re going to parade around in such expensive clothes,” you snapped, your temper slipping.  

“Are you seriously standing there, telling me this is my fault?” he asked, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.  

“Yup. Because it is,” you shot back, crossing your arms as you met his icy gaze. “I’m not about to buy you a thousand-dollar suit when dry cleaning can fix it.”  

“A thousand?” he repeated, laughing, and to your surprise, the sound was annoyingly pleasant. “This is a Brioni, not some off-the-rack garbage from Nordstrom. And I expect full payment. Interest included.”  

“Oh, fuck off,” you snapped, throwing up your hands in frustration. Turning on your heel, you stomped away, your blood still boiling.  

You had no idea what a Brioni was, and frankly, you didn’t care. He wasn’t going to bully you into paying for a ridiculously overpriced suit. You couldn’t even afford the cheap ones. And besides, what was he going to do? He didn’t even know who you were.  

You didn’t hear his footsteps behind you, but suddenly, he was in front of you, blocking your path.  

“I’m not done talking to you,” he said, his tone cutting through the air like ice.  

“Yeah, well, I’m done talking to you. Get the hell out of my way,” you snapped, trying to sidestep him.  

His hand shot out, grabbing your arm and holding you in place. You were about to slap him when his free hand darted into your pocket, pulling out your wallet.  

“Hey! What the fuck?” you yelled, trying to snatch it back.  

Ignoring you, he opened it and rifled through your cards and cash with infuriating calmness. He pulled out your driver’s license, glancing at it, and you could have sworn he smirked.  

“So, Miss L/N, I’ll be in touch. And perhaps you should pay attention to where you’re walking. You never know who you might bump into,” he said, his voice full of smug amusement as he slipped your wallet back into your pocket.  

Before you could respond, he turned and strode off down the street, leaving you standing there, fuming.  

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen, willing yourself not to think about the events from earlier. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept circling back. You couldn’t believe his fucking audacity.

The way he’d just grabbed your wallet out of your pocket… like it was nothing, and then had the nerve to smirk at you. The memory made your blood boil all over again. You were livid.

It was obvious he was wealthy, the kind of man who was used to getting whatever he wanted. But you weren’t about to be bullied by some rich asshole. You couldn't stand people like him, entitled, out of touch assholes.

But… lord, was he hot.

Your thoughts betrayed you, conjuring up his sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and those dark brown eyes that seemed to smolder even when he was furious. He exuded danger. The kind that drew you in, whether you wanted it to or not.

For a moment, your mind wandered, imagining what it would feel like to run your hands through his hair, tugging at it as he…

No. No.

You shook your head, physically trying to jolt yourself back to reality. You weren’t about to let your thoughts go there. He didn’t deserve a second more of your time.

After work, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was to curl up on the couch and watch something mindless. As you walked down the hall to your apartment, the sight of an envelope sticking out of the door made you frown.

You approached it slowly, pulling it from the door and turning it over.

The handwriting on the front was neat and tidy. The letter itself was a single piece of paper, folded in half. Your name was scrawled on the front.

Hesitating, you unlocked the door and walked into your apartment. It was small, barely enough space for you, but it was the only place you could afford.

Closing the door behind you, you opened the letter.

Miss L/N, I trust you found this note where I left it. Please see the enclosed invoice for the cost of replacing my suit. If I do not receive a response within five business days, I will have no choice but to involve my lawyers. Sincerely, Elijah Mikaelson

There was a paper inside, folded in half. Pulling it out, you found the bill:

Invoice: Total cost of suit and emotional damages: $20,325.00

What the fuck?

The number at the bottom made you want to vomit. How the fuck could a suit cost that much?

There was no way in hell you could come up with that kind of money. If he tried to sue you there was no way you would be able to pay it.

Fuck. Fuck.

You stared down at the invoice, panic starting to build. His phone number was listed at the top, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you dialed the number, your heart hammering in your chest.

After two rings, a deep, infuriatingly familiar voice answered.

"Miss L/N, I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten my note," he said, sounding amused.

"You can't be serious. That suit cannot cost that much," you snapped, trying and failing to keep the fear out of your voice.

"As a matter of fact, it can. You should feel lucky I'm not asking for more, considering the insult to my character. Or do I need to remind you of how you behaved?" he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance.

"How much emotional damage could a spilled cup of coffee possibly cause?" you scoffed, unable to stop yourself. "I'm not paying that. No way."

"Well, unfortunately, the suit is ruined. My dry cleaner tried his best, but it was simply too late," he said, his words clipped and precise. "Now, we can settle this between us. Or I can call my lawyer, and the two of us can hash out a deal in court."

"What the hell do you want from me?" you asked, unable to keep the anger and hurt out of your voice. "You think I have a couple grand lying around? I can't even afford my rent, much less a suit that's worth more than I'll make in the next year!"

"Then I suggest you get a better job," he replied, his tone dismissive. "I have no interest in playing games with you. Either pay what you owe, or face the consequences."

"Go fuck yourself," you hissed, hanging up and slamming the phone down on the table.

He couldn't be serious. There was no way. He was a sadist, clearly. Just an entitled, privileged prick, and you had no doubt he would go through with his threat.

Your phone started to ring, and you glared at it, tempted to ignore it. But you knew that would only make things worse.

With a sigh, you picked up the phone, answering it and pressing it to your ear. "What?"

"Well, that was rude," he said, his voice cold.

"Yeah, well, so is threatening me," you shot back.

"You're being unreasonable," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "We can settle this like adults. If you can't afford the suit, perhaps there's another way we can work out our differences."

"If you're trying to blackmail me into having sex with you, fuck off. I'm not a hooker," you snapped.

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver, even as it enraged you. "Hardly darling, I don't pay for sex,"

"Then what the fuck do you want?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"An apology," he said, and there was something dangerous in his voice, a hint of a threat.

"Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Now, leave me the hell alone."

"No, I want an apology in person, perhaps over dinner. After all, we never had a chance to get properly acquainted," he said, his voice smooth.

"That wasn't part of the deal," you hissed. "You said an apology, not a date."

"Are you trying to negotiate terms with me?" he asked, his tone amused. "Because I'm not sure that's wise. After all, if we go to court, I'll win. I have excellent lawyers."

"Are you seriously going to sue me over a stupid suit?" you asked, the anger in your voice fading, replaced by fear.

"That depends. Are you going to refuse my request?" he asked, his voice soft, yet firm.

You hesitated, weighing your options. On one hand, you could try to stand up to him. But there was no doubt in your mind that you would lose a court battle… you did damage his suit after all.

"Fine," you said, the word leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Excellent. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven," he said, sounding satisfied.

Before you could respond, the line went dead.

You stared at your phone, furious. This wasn’t an apology; it was a trap. But what choice did you have? You’d give him his stupid apology…and then, hopefully, you’d never have to see him again.

At first you decided you were just going to wear a sweatshirt and leggings. Let him deal with it. You weren’t about to put the effort in. But a small voice inside told you that it would only make things worse. Besides, if there was any chance this would be the last time you had to see him, maybe you should look good. Show him that you weren't some charity case.

With a sigh, you put on the nicest dress you had, a simple black shift. You spent some time doing your hair and makeup, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you felt a flicker of pride.

You could do this.

As you finished getting ready, you wondered if he was going to show up in another ridiculously expensive suit. Probably. It seemed like his entire identity was tied up in his clothing. A small, diabolical part of you considered ruining another one of his suits, just to spite him. But you dismissed the idea. It wasn't worth the cost.

Just as you finished slipping on your heels, the buzzer rang. Grabbing your purse, you headed down the stairs, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the front door.

There, waiting for you, was Elijah, looking infuriatingly handsome. He wasn't dressed in a suit this time, in fact what he was wearing was much less formal, and a lot sexier. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, and a dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Was he aware of how ridiculously hot he was? Of course he knew... A man with all that wealth and confidence wouldn't have a doubt in his mind that women would fall at his feet.

"Hello, darling," he said, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he gazed down at you. "You look lovely."

"Don't," you said, holding up a finger and glaring at him. "I'm not your 'darling' and you don't get to call me that."

He chuckled, the sound making your skin prickle with heat. "Very well, shall we?"

He offered you his arm, and against your better judgement, you took it, allowing him to lead you to his car. You were surprised when he opened the passenger side door for you, but didn't comment, sliding into the seat.

"I expected you to be wearing another suit," you commented, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. "After all, they're such a large part of your personality."

He looked over at you, his gaze moving down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and hips, lingering on your legs.

"And I wasn't expecting a dress, but here we are," he said, his eyes meeting yours, the challenge in them clear.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, turning to look out the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"I could say the same about you," he replied, his tone amused. "Though, I will admit, I admire your spirit."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" you asked, your brows furrowing.

"Yes, it is," he said, keeping his gaze on the road.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"A little restaurant not far from here," he said, not elaborating further.

You were tempted to ask him more, but you didn't want to seem overly interested. You were still trying to figure out his motives, but you didn't want him to think he was winning.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and soon, he was pulling into a parking spot. He came around to open the door for you, and you ignored his hand, standing on your own.

You followed him into the restaurant, a quaint, homey place with dim lighting and candles on the tables. The waiter seated you, handing each of you a menu and taking your drink orders.

When he walked away, you turned your attention back to Elijah, studying his face in the low light. His features were strong, defined, and there was something oddly compelling about his eyes, the way they seemed to see right through you.

"So, what's your story?" you asked, breaking the silence. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a philanthropist," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I invest in various causes, and also provide grants to those in need."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Of course you are,"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked, a slight edge to his voice.

"You just scream old money, the kind of guy who's never had to work a day in his life, never had to struggle," you said, not bothering to mask the disdain in your voice.

He arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a half-smile. "You're quite judgmental, aren't you?"

"Says the man who's trying to extort money from me," you retorted, your temper flaring.

"Sweetheart, you don't know anything about me or my struggles," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "I think it's best if you keep your opinions to yourself."

You glared at him, your jaw clenching. You wanted to fire back, tell him he was wrong, but a small, logical part of you warned against it.

"Fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "I'm sorry...again."

"Apology accepted," he said, his expression smug.

Before you could respond, the waiter returned with your drinks.

"Are you two ready to order?" he asked, giving you both a polite smile.

"Yes, I'll have the steak," Elijah said, handing the menu back. "And she will have the pasta."

Your eyes narrowed at him. "No, actually, I'd like the salad,"

"Nonsense," he said, dismissing your objection with a wave of his hand. "Trust me, you'll like the pasta better."

The waiter nodded and collected your menus, leaving you alone once again.

"Did I say I wanted pasta?" you asked, irritated by his high-handedness.

"It's delicious, you'll see," he said, ignoring your question.

"So, is this how it's going to be all night? You making decisions for me, and me being pissed about it?" you asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of your voice.

He let out a soft chuckle, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Probably, yes."

You shook your head, biting back a scathing retort. Clearly, he enjoyed being an asshole. And you were determined not to give him the satisfaction of provoking you.

He was watching you closely, a smug smile on his lips. "So what do you do for work?"

"I'm a planning coordinator at a nonprofit," you said, your voice tight.

"That's interesting, what is the organization?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"It's an outreach program for the homeless, I manage all the paperwork and the grant applications, that kind of stuff," you said, shrugging.

"How noble," he murmured, his gaze assessing.

You weren't sure if he was being sincere or not, and the comment rubbed you the wrong way.

"It's just a job," you muttered, not wanting to admit that it was something that mattered deeply to you.

"That makes you very little money, apparently," he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, not everyone can be a rich philanthropist," you shot back, your temper flaring.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Fair point."

"Why are you really doing this?" you asked, unable to hold back the question.

"Doing what?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Blackmailing me into going on a date with you," you said, narrowing your eyes.

"You seem to have a lot of misconceptions about me," he said, his tone amused. "For starters, this isn't a date. It's an apology dinner."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I've already apologized multiple times. Why did you really want to meet me?"

"You intrigue me," he said, his expression unreadable.

You were about to respond when the waiter returned, placing your meals in front of you.

"Here you go, enjoy," the waiter said, giving you a quick smile before heading off to another table.

You stared down at the pasta, it looked absolutely delicious, but you weren't about to admit that. You took a tentative bite, trying to hide your enjoyment, but it was no use. The pasta was amazing.

"Told you," he said, a knowing smile on his face.

"I'm not admitting anything," you muttered, taking another bite.

"Of course not," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

As you ate, you stole glances at him, trying to figure him out. He was a puzzle, that much was certain. But there was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface, a darkness that set your nerves on edge.

You were halfway through the meal when he spoke again.

"So, tell me more about yourself," he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

"What do you want to know?" you asked, keeping your voice casual.

"Anything," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You considered his question for a moment before responding. "I work, I go home, that's pretty much it."

He gave you a look, one that said he wasn't satisfied with your answer. "That's all? There must be more to you than that."

"Nope," you said, popping the 'p' for emphasis.

"I see," he said, his expression giving nothing away.

"What about you? I know you're a rich asshole who is obsessed with their clothing and extorts money from innocent people, but other than that, not much," you said, a hint of a smile on your lips.

"You think you have me all figured out, don't you?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"Pretty much, yeah," you said, shrugging.

He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "What would you say if I told you that I'm an ancient vampire who runs this city with my equally powerful and ruthless family?"

You couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, so you are crazy. Good to know."

He didn't respond, simply staring at you, his expression deadly serious.

You shook your head, finishing the last few bites of your meal. "Come on, really? Vampires? Don't insult my intelligence."

He smirked and shrugged, leaning back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Fine, don't believe me."

The waiter returned with the check, and before you could object, Elijah paid, adding a generous tip.

"Ready to go?" he asked, standing and offering you his arm.

You wanted to refuse, to insist on paying for yourself, but the rational part of you knew that it would be futile. Besides, maybe he'd finally leave you alone after this.

"Sure," you muttered, taking his arm.

As he led you out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, and how firm his muscles were under your hand. You hated yourself for it, but he was undeniably attractive.

"Are you done terrorizing me?" you asked, as you made your way towards the car. “Is my debt to you cleared?”

He chuckled, opening the passenger door and waiting for you to get in before responding. "The debt? Yes. Terrorizing you? Not even close.”

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}

[goldenecho]

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