#custom made vests

[leathercollectionus]

Leather Vest

Warmer weathers call for reduced layers yet unconventional styling. Now, to save you from any disappointment in ready-to-wear vests due to ugly aesthetics or perhaps bad stitching, we are here with our exclusive Custom Leather Vests facility.

Leather Vest

[mxwormie]

i put together a custom decora girlz doll inspired by @/texcritterspizzajamboree

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[l0ganberry]

[flownwrong]

if you're in your mid 20s and you are not dressing up as a german genderfuck industrial pioneer in his mid 20s, why celebrate halloween at all

[flittermousing]

Work shenanigans. Jazzy loves the culture here :)

[orangeocelotmartyn]

When the games are over and they’re all set free, they All need therapy—who wouldn’t, being forced into death games and all. They all go to group therapy sessions and private ones, which is how ren discovers what therapy dogs have to go through to graduate, and he decides you know what, I can do that

And that’s how Martyn winds up with a massive wolf laying on top of him, his hands resting in dark brown fur on ren’s hair before he even realizes he’s about to have a panic attack

[kerosene-saint]

I am a serial bandom fan made merch collector

[threadsun]

sleepy anon here. glad you figured shit out! im a bit late to everything but im glad it got mostly resolved from the sounds of things. I was busy with going through the patreon becaise i just realized i have funds to actually sign up for it, and OOPH those audiodramas (positive) anyways heres the Sleeby Thought of the day/night

everyone in sdj needs a service dog. Emotional support? Cardiac alert? Autism support? (those exist i know someone who has one hes a goober) Hallucination detector? everyone needs one.

lmao yeah I was having a Moment. But I'm all good now!! Oh the patreon is so worth it, Moon and I enjoy everything on it greatly!! (yes I have the official sdj dildo, not that anyone was wondering)

Ooooh I love that!!! I'm back on my chronically ill/disabled Nick bullshit, I think Pico and Cheese are medical alert dogs. Maybe one for migraines and one for heartrate or something? idk. But definitely medical alert dogs. Also he could use a giant dog to be a mobility service dog!!

[sansevierias]

since kerry even puts silly little hats on his security robots, there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t dress up nibbles when given the chance.

[addictedbespoke]

Women's Prom Custom Made Designer 2 piece Premium Black Cotton Vest Pant Suit Wedding Cocktail Business Formal Party Outfit Gift For Her

The ADDICTEDbespoke

We are in the field of Customized Suit/Sherwani from last more than 10 years. We do all kinds of custom orders for Men, Women & Kids. These are our completely custom handmade suits. Each suit is crafted for an individual customer based on his tastes and lifestyle. We also offer matching accessories like Lapel Pins, Bow Ties, Narrow Ties, Broad Ties, Cufflinks, Socks, Shoes, Belt and Pocket Squares, etc. with a little extra cost, to make out a complete package for you (additional cost will be applied). We are always up to suit your demands and make something special and unique for your custom order! Please contact us if you have any questions about your order. This is a made-to-order garment. This jacket is made from premium quality cotton fabric. Sizing:

[henrysmith891]

Leather Biker vests are a timeless classic

Certain pieces in the world of fashion are symbols of unbridled freedom, rebellious charm and untamed style. The leather biker jackets are one of the most popular, combining fashion and functionality. In this article, we explore the leather biker vest. We look at their evolution, history and appeal.

Cool Roots

After World War II motorcycle clubs, which were seen as the pinnacle of coolness at the time, began to produce leather vests. Marlon in "The Wild One", an iconic figure, donned leather vests to embrace the rebellious nature. The vests, originally designed for practical protection, quickly became symbols of nonconformity and counterculture.

Changes in Style

Although leather vests remain a mainstay of motorcycle culture, they have evolved beyond their practical origins. Modern versions come in a wide range of designs, from simple, elegant lines to embellished, intricate ones. Fashion enthusiasts who are looking for a sophisticated yet edgy style have embraced vests as a stylish fashion accessory.

You can express yourself through Iconic symbols and personal expression:

The ability of leather vests to be a canvas that allows for individual expression is what makes them so unique. With patches, unique embellishments and pins on each vest, it tells its own story. The vests that were worn originally by motorcycle club memberships to represent their affiliations are now used to allow individual expressions of identity, experiences, and interests. This personalization feature has made leather vests more appealing to people who are not bikers.

Versatility redefined

Leather motorcycle vests have transcended the niche they were originally created for, and are now essential wardrobe pieces. The seamless transition of leather biker vests into mainstream fashion is proof that they can be adapted. The leather vest effortlessly balances the rebellious with refined. It can be worn over jeans and T-shirts for an easygoing, relaxed vibe, or it can even be layered on a shirt to add a sophisticated edge.

The Craftsmanship of Durability and the Quality:

The durability of leather vests and their craftsmanship, in addition to their attractive aesthetics, contribute to their popularity. Made from top-quality leather these vests exude rugged appeal and provide functionality. They are appreciated by riders for their protection against abrasions and weather conditions.

Freedom Symbol:

The appeal of leather vests is rooted in the association they have with freedom and individuality. Wearing these vests is a way to express a spirit which transcends social norms. This leather vest is a representation of the freedom to be yourself and breaking away from societal norms.

Leather vests are more than just clothing. They're cultural artifacts with a history that is rich and timeless. The vests are still riding the style waves, from their roots in rebellious motorcyclist subcultures to today's versatile status as fashion statements. The leather vests, as symbols of freedom and individual expression that are also cool, proves to be timeless fashion statements.

[pineyw00dsshesquatch]

TIFF-ANEEEEEEE!

Freddie Mercury with his cats.

[soothsayersblog]

Non Lethal Weapons

The Bounty Hunter Store offers the best in class line of non lethal weapons at the most competitive rates in the nation. Be confident with the best technology in the market that gets the job done

Non-lethal weapons, also known as less-lethal weapons, are designed to incapacitate or deter individuals without causing fatal injuries. They are often used by law enforcement, security personnel, and individuals for personal security purposes. Here are some reasons why non-lethal weapons can be considered beneficial for personal security: Reduced Risk of Fatality: Non-lethal weapons are…

[lamaery]

This time it is Rlain's turn to gaze. :D There's a reason mateform makes you unfocused. Here is Renarin looking back

ID: The first image features Renarin through Rlain's loving eyes. In all, Renarin glimmers with handsomespren. In none of them is Renarin looking back at us. They paint a beautiful vision of being in love with a man who prefers not to make a lot of eye contact. In the first drawing, Renarin looks out from a slightly ducked posture, his attention focused elsewhere and his expression privately delighted, as if he'd just thought of something wickedly clever that he hasn't yet shared. The light catches his features in an alluring way, and the viewer knows exactly what Rlain loves about his boyfriend's brilliant mind. In the second drawing, Renarin looks out into the middle distance, his expression serious and emotionally neutral, but somehow weighted with responsibility. His wide Blackthorn jaw seems slightly clenched, but unconsciously. His collar is tantalizingly open, allowing Rlain to enjoy the elegant length of his neck and that secret hollow of his throat. In the third sketch, Renarin is seen from above. He's leaning back in a chair, his head resting comfortably and uninhibitedly, supported by the chair's curved back. He's looking in the opposite direction from the viewer, but he smiles with teeth. His collar is wide open, and he looks so comfortable in his own skin. Like, he's so completely relaxed, so uninhibited, like sharing his personal space bubble and his body with Rlain is effortless. In the fourth sketch, Renarin stands across the room, about twenty feet away. His weight is subtly on his back foot to compensate as he holds up at an arm's length an impeccably pressed, regal knee-length Kholin jacket. In his other hand, he holds his shorter Bridge Four jacket, in a way that will keep the collar from being creased. He's wearing an undershirt that my heart knows was custom made for his measurements with a pair of pants with a line of coy, delicate little buttons down the split in his lower pants leg, from knee to lower calf. The split shows a tantalizing sliver of calf, and he doesn't even realize how handsome he is. His pants make his butt a little flat, but we all must cope with devastating trials in this mortal realm. He has elegantly boned feet and there's a slim musculature behind his leanness now, and isn't that all that really matters in this universe? Rlain thinks so. In the fifth drawing, Renarin leans over a few scribbled pages, one hand pointed outward as it presses flat against the table.  He seems deep in conversation with Glys, attention focused inward as he focused on the complexities of a mystery.  He's wearing a buttoned-down version of a fancier outfit: a tailored cross-body vest that emphasizes the slimness and sleekness of his build. and matching trousers.  Beneath that is a button-up shirt with an open collar and rolled-up sleeves, because Marie loves us and she wants us to be happy. The second image, at the top right, is a very cartoonishly minimalistic and humorously stylized illustration of mateform Rlain standing with absolutely zero chill, his arms crossed in a way he wants you to think is relaxed, but clearly isn't relaxed at all.  He's staring forward and sweating, the words "Trying very hard to concentrate." snaking around his head.  He's also wearing a very wide open collar in harmony with his stouter overall physique.  He also has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, because everyone deserves to see their favorite forearm circumference represented in media. 3 and 4 are a trio of very quick and sketchy but also ADORABLE illustrations, Rlain grabs a surprised Renarin's vest front, which draws a deep blush and a very enthusiastic and eager little grin.  Surprises are not always great, but he's 100% down with this one!  They meet in a kiss, craning over the table between them, Rlain's hand still clutching a fistful of Renarin's vest and Renarin reciprocating with passion, cradling the back of Rlain's neck with one hand, one finger running up the bare skin where neck meets skull.  Passionspren fall thickly around them.

[addictedbespoken]

Women Pink Custom Made 2Pc Pantsuit

Suit up and look sharp in Addicted Bespoken's take on power dressing. The power suit is back. update your wardrobe from our 'Pink Custom Made 2Pc Pantsuit' collection and make people adore you by wondering to have a same outfit.

Features:

Regular Fit

Single Breasted Blazer

Flap Pockets

Waist Belt With Buckle

Button Closure

Embroidered Pantsuit

High Waist Wide Leg Trousers

Wrinkle resistant

Care:

Dry Clean Only

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[aventurineswife]

Gepard, Sampo, Ratio, Aventurine and Boothill react that reader has turned into a child by someone or something

From Giant to Child, You Are Still You

Tags: Gepard x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Protective Characters, Humor, Can be ready Romantically or Platonically, Lighthearted, Transformation Chaos, Caretaking, Humor, Character Bonds.

Gepard stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the sight before him. You—his steadfast companion—had somehow been transformed into a small child. Clutching a plush toy you seemed to have conjured out of nowhere, you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your tiny hand reaching out for his.

“What happened to you?” he murmured, crouching down to your level. He couldn’t hide the worry etched into his features. He was a soldier, trained to face terrifying monsters, but this? This was entirely out of his depth.

You tilted your head, giving him a toothy grin. “Gepard, you look funny! Your armor is so shiny!”

He couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation. “Well, at least your spirit hasn’t changed.” He reached out, gently patting your head, careful not to startle you. His mind raced, trying to think of a way to reverse this transformation. Until then, he swore to himself he’d protect you even more fiercely than before.

For now, though, he’d carry you on his shoulder and let you tug at his hair, your laughter bringing a rare lightness to his heart.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Sampo’s teasing voice broke through the silence as he crouched down to inspect the tiny version of you tugging at his coat. “My favorite customer has shrunk! How did this happen? Was it some experiment gone wrong, or did you just decide being an adult wasn’t worth the hassle?”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t my fault! Someone did this to me!”

Sampo smirked, ruffling your hair in an almost brotherly way. “Relax, kiddo, I’ll get you back to normal…eventually. But in the meantime, imagine the opportunities! You’re smaller, sneakier—this could work in my favor.”

You glared up at him, your tiny stature doing little to make it intimidating. “Sampo, this isn’t funny!”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s a little funny,” he chuckled, scooping you up into his arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. Besides, you’re too adorable for anyone to resist now.” He winked.

Despite his lighthearted tone, Sampo kept a close watch on you. As much as he liked to joke, the thought of you being in danger in this vulnerable state didn’t sit right with him. Whoever caused this had better be ready for a reckoning—Sampo Koski style.

Ratio stared down at you, his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. “This has to be some kind of joke,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How, exactly, did you manage to turn into a child? Was it a poorly thought-out experiment? Some unstable phenomenon?”

You blinked up at him, hugging his leg for comfort. “I didn’t mean to! Fix it, Ratio!”

He sighed, kneeling to your level. “This complicates things. I can’t have you running around in this state. You’ll break something—or worse, touch my research.” His sharp tone made you shrink back, but his expression softened when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he said quickly, awkwardly patting your head. “I’ll figure it out.” He picked you up, carefully cradling you as if you were made of glass.

While he worked to reverse the transformation, Ratio found himself unexpectedly entertained by your childlike curiosity. You tugged at the straps of his vest, asking endless questions about the glowing gadgets in his lab. To his surprise, he found himself answering, even if the explanations went over your head.

For all his protests, Ratio’s protective nature shone through. He kept you close, determined to return you to normal—but not without muttering under his breath about the trials of babysitting.

The opulent suite was alive with the faint hum of energy panels and the clinking of Aventurine’s rings as he flipped a coin lazily between his fingers. Seated at a velvet chaise, he seemed the epitome of nonchalance, but his sharp eyes flicked over the room with calculated precision. He never truly relaxed.

Until you came bursting in—or rather, toddled in.

The sound of small feet padding across the marbled floor drew his attention, and the coin stopped mid-air as he caught it deftly. His smirk faltered.

"Well, well," he said, sliding off the chaise and crouching to your level. His voice was syrupy, teasing, but there was a hint of genuine confusion behind it. "What do we have here? Did you get lost on your way to daycare, darling?"

You tilted your head up at him, your now tiny face scrunched in distress. "A-Aventurine, it’s me!"

His smile froze. For a moment, his flamboyant mask cracked, and genuine alarm flickered across his features. Then, in true Aventurine fashion, he burst out laughing, though it was an uneasy sound.

"Oh, you must be joking!" he exclaimed, standing abruptly and running a hand through his hair. "No, wait—this isn’t a joke, is it?" His eyes locked onto yours, scanning for some sign of trickery.

"I don’t know what happened!" you wailed, tugging at his pant leg. "One minute I was normal, and now I’m—this!"

Aventurine crouched again, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his chin. "Fascinating. You’re—what? Cursed? Experimented on? Fell into some eldritch goo, perhaps?" His words were light, but his tone betrayed his rising concern.

"I don’t know!" you replied, stomping your tiny foot.

"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need to throw a tantrum. We’ll figure this out. But first—" He scooped you up with surprising ease, spinning you around as if assessing a new casino trinket. "Look at you! You’re adorable! Almost makes me wish I could shrink down and start over myself."

You scowled, your childlike pout only adding to the adorableness. "Aventurine!"

He sighed dramatically, setting you down on the chaise. "Fine, fine. I’ll help you fix this. But you owe me big time, darling. Babysitting isn’t in my job description."

Despite his usual carefree attitude, Aventurine’s actions were swift and decisive as he began making calls and weaving his web of connections to find out what—or who—had caused this. Every so often, he glanced your way, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"Guess it’s my turn to be the responsible adult..." he muttered under his breath.

The sound of spurs clinking against the metallic floor echoed through the dimly lit saloon-like cantina. Boothill leaned against the bar, his hat tilted low over his white hair, a toothy grin flashing as he polished one of his pistols.

Then the sound of soft, uneven footsteps reached his ears. They were far too light to belong to one of the Galaxy Rangers or any of the usual drunks who frequented the place. He straightened, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

When you stumbled into view—half your usual size, your tiny hands gripping the edge of a table for balance—Boothill froze.

“...Sugar?” His voice was rough, skeptical. He crouched slightly, his red scarf brushing the floor. “The fudge happened to you?”

“It’s me!” you squeaked, tears welling up in your now much smaller eyes.

Boothill blinked. “No kiddin’.” He stood straight, one hand on his hip, the other scratching the back of his head. “Well, ain’t this somethin’. You look like a calf that wandered outta the pen.”

You glared at him, though the effect was more precious than intimidating. “Boothill, stop joking! This is serious!”

He let out a low whistle, crouching again so you could see his shark-like grin. “Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. Just...how’d this happen? Someone shrink ray ya? Drink somethin’ funky?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, stamping your little foot. “One minute I was fine, and the next—poof!”

Boothill’s grin faded, replaced by a contemplative look as he reached out, ruffling your hair gently with his mechanical fingers. “Alright, darlin’. Don’t you worry none. We’ll get ya fixed up.” He stood, drawing one of his pistols with a dramatic flourish. “But first, let’s figure out who’s behind this. You reckon it’s the IPC? Wouldn’t put it past those varmints to mess with folks like this.”

You shook your head, sniffling. “I don’t know…”

Boothill sighed, holstering his gun before scooping you up in one arm. “Guess you’ll just hafta stick with ol’ Boothill for a bit. Hope you ain’t too squirmy, kiddo.”

Despite his gruff demeanor, Boothill’s protective side shone through as he carried you out of the cantina, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. “Don’t fret,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Ain’t nothin’ out there that can outdraw me. We’ll get ya back to normal in no time.”

You buried your face in his scarf, finding comfort in its warmth. Boothill’s grin returned, this time softer, as he adjusted his hat.

“Reckon you’re lucky to have me, huh?” he teased, spurs clinking as he strode confidently into the unknown.