#retailor

[monster-noises]

I tried a few new ~combos~ this week,

do they work? Good question, I'm not entirely sure myself.

(he/him)

[zoeticthoughts]

You can both wear dresses if you want! But only if you want. She can wear a suit too. Really anyone can wear whatever! It's your (plural) fucking day!

I'd like to get married to a girl one day

But *I* get to wear a dress.

[captain-amadeus]

I love that cloak so much

[simmervlogs]

Come and indulge your shopping desires at the Emporium, a high fashion retail store located in downtown San Myshuno. This double-storey retailor offers a new outlook on fashion, The Emporium caters to all and offers you the luxury at an affordable price. From clothes, shoes, jewelry to accessories, The Emporium also offers gift wrapping as well as, change rooms and professional stylist assistance upon request. The store also includes a cafe onsite as well as a marketing room for the staff. Treat yourself, The Emporium is the place to be.

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

Download on Patreon

[tanuki-kimono]

Hello ! I've been really into Gegege no Kitarou recently, and looking at his mom made me wonder : back when kimonos were worn on a daily basis, how did pregnant people style them ? Did they wear other types of clothes that don't compress the stomach as much instead ? If you happen to have any info on this, it would be very cool :)

Hi! It's hard to imagine as many kitsuke pictures now promote perfect tubular silhouettes with not a fold out of place, but in the past kimono were worn far more loosely than they are today!

Kimono was then worn everyday (=no time for perfect polished photoshoot looks ;), many kistuke accessories we now use didn't even exist (=they were not needed!).

During Edo period to late Meiji, feminine silhouettes were far more flowy/willowy than what we have today:

Kimono tended to be longer (hikizuri for ex.) and adjusted far less tighlty on the upper body (=people were working!). Depending on the period obi were narrower, or worn differently (criss crossed for ex.) or laxer than what we do today.

Pregnant women had no trouble adjusting their clothes to their changing bodies :)

The kimono was worn looser and looser as belly and boobs grew. If possible, kimono could have been unstitched and retailored (if fabric allowed it) to the bigger size needed.

Obi and ties were set above (and/or under the belly depending on time), like so:

And pregnancy belts were widely used.

One belt was a type of sarashi (soft cotton roll, which was also used for chest) named hara-obi 腹帯, which provided support:

Another special belt was the Iwata-obi 岩田帯, used during Obi-iwai 帯祝い, a ceremony taking place on the day of the dog during the fifth month of pregnancy. This was meant to ensure safe birth, as dogs were thought to give birth easily - hence why inu hariko are good luck charm for expecting women:

The obiiwai was also a way to announce a pregnancy to the community (as miscarriages, abortions, and infanticides were sadly quite common then).

Iwata obi are still a thing, here are modern ones:

Finally, as a side note, what pregnant women could do if they felt smothered by their kimono? Well, just open the damn thing to wear it much like a robe!

Japan had not the same shaming view of female breasts than the West then. It was quite common to see some working class people in underwear/loosely dressed, or have both sex share spaces in the nude (baths for ex.).

Tbh, unless she was living a sheltered life (no work, servants, etc.), I don't see why a pregnant woman would have bothered with a properly adjusted kimono, when she could have just be much freer and comfortable xD

Hope this helps!

[boccher]

it is funny i spend my waking hours being berated for being a slow and unreactive peace of shit who is clearly acting out of malice and antisocialness then i go online to escape that and theyre talkin about how they wish they could choke people who are slow and stall all the time but its ok online because theyre exploited retailors and salarymen who need to escape from their real life condition and their venting isnt declaration of intent so you shouldnt think about it so much. can i escape too

[cryptotheism]

So, student need skin grafts and it was mentioned that the people of her strain learn to do an autograft by their 7th summer?

So their skin is not reliable? Like it rots? We would like some clarification.

Their endocrine systems are overactive. It is responsible for both their extreme resistance to biotoxins, and their rapid necrosis. Their bodies rapidly cannibalize the hormones needed for the dermal apoptotic reaction, as well as the lipids and vitamins that should be keeping patches of their skin healthy.

Generally, the rot tends to happen in large patches along the long bones. The forearms, thighs, biceps, and calves. Fingers and toes are also common, but tricky to graft, so Briah adults tend to help children with those. It's pretty common for Briah adults to take on fully retailored digits or prosthetics (like Student has.)

[raccoonfallsharder]

How do you think Rocket's tail was accounted for with the Endgame nanosuit-up? I've tried to get screen frames of it to see how it's covered but I can't seem to get a good view. I wouldn't be surprised if they just cut off his model's tail for that scene. Would track with the lack of respect the Guardians got from the writers and directors for E and IW...

darling. yo. they for sure didn’t think about it at all and also fuck that movie. good news is it’s our headcanon so we get to do what we want.

i had heard like fourth-hand that there’s some director’s commentary or something that says the quantum suit in endgame was based on a mixture of the pymsuit, stark tech, and the guardians’ spacesuits (which is really rockettech™). so i guess one possibility would be that rocket’s suit had a dual trigger, and when he triggered his helmet, it also activated the sort of bubble-spacesuit that we see them use in vol 2 to protect his tail and make sure it went along with him for the quantum ride. feels like kind of a lazy and unsatisfying solution, especially since we don’t see it.

actually, you know, i bet that in-universe, the avengers just fed their measurements into one of tony’s machines and printed out suits accordingly. when they were done, someone handed rocket a little pym-stark suit and when they gave it to him he was like where the fuck’s my tail go and they were like what and he was like unbelievable. gotta do everything myself. retailored the whole damn ass himself and added his very own patent-frickin-pending spacesuit-tech for tail-protection.

well now i’ve made myself bitter on a saturday night

[maxswell-industries]

I read somewhere that your company offers supplements to increase the size of my loads, but that sometimes side effects may include permanent testicle growth. Do you have ball bras that can help support the added weight and size?

Thank you for your interest in our ejactulation enhancers. Our designers are actually looking for both fit testers and possibly models for ball bras. Maybe when you come in for your first dose, we can could draw up a contract for you to be in both roles. We will definitely compensate you for this in almost anyway you see fit for helping us out.

And don't worry, we will also offer constant retailoring for your wardrobe to make sure you have a good, snug fit.

[justanotherdeckhand]

Whack!

M!A, you 🫵 get American Kestrel wings for as long as mod desires.

EH?! I'll need to get this rewound... Do these work? I think I need to get clothes retailored for this... Haah...

[a hand rests on her forehead like usual]

Well this is a legal prosthetic... If I choose to get rid of it I could resell it... I might keep them.

[she pinches the bridge of her nose then takes off her jacket and vest]

I wonder if I can call out sick for this...

[she slices open the back of her shirt with her harpoon just enough to let the wings through]

[art-beyond-the-stars]

A first look at Virus!AU Ragatha!

During Caine's corruption, someone had to be crazy enough to fight back against the Mad God. A strong soldier, she patrols the circus in search of corrupted NPCs, or even the fanged demon himself.

Her dress has been cut and retailored into a jumpsuit, for better mobility, and she wields a massive rubber mallet. Cartoon physics are surprisingly handy when facing down terrifying monsters!

[downtroddendeity]

Because all things about this game somehow make him funnier, he has, in-story, had the suit this whole time. It just hasn't shown up in inventory as an equippable outfit. Which we know because he has changed back before.

As a joke which no one else understood.

I thought Ni no Kuni 2 would have no more Rolandposting surprises left. I thought I had more or less seen it all. Sure, there was more postgame, but most of what I have left is dungeon crawling through recycled assets because they ran out of budget.

And then, at the bottom of 40 floors of random dungeon, the last 10 of which can only be entered on Hard difficulty, after slogging my way through a level 120 boss fight (of also recycled assets), I got cold-cocked once again.

Because it turns out. The secret reward for defeating the primordial dragon sent by the demiurge to decimate humanity. Is.

You can put Roland back in a business suit.

[avatar-of-pride]

its not the worst hat !!

just a fedora with a couple of feathers in the seams !!

ima go ask a retailor to fix me a new hat !!

maybe this time i should get a cap and bells hat 🤔

jingle everytime i walk or move my head

-🃏

YOU'RE WEARING A FEDORA???

No offense, but I would kill myself if I wore a fedora outside

[loriahlikeswriting]

Hi! I recently started writing fanfic again. With Hazbin Hotel finally getting a season I was really inspired to dabble into writing something pertaining to Angel Dust, and so I really got hooked on the idea of a human alternate universe taking place in modern times following not only Angel’s struggles but Alastor’s as well! It’s really just a character analysis and me trying to write different characters (one being kinda loony) but regardless I put a lot of effort into each chapter and would love to get feedback! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

I’ve also drawn some pictures of all the characters here and will post some art I have made pertaining to this fic.

I’ll attach a link to ao3 story after the summary and snippet of the first chapter <3 thank you so much for taking your time to read this post and I hope you enjoy!

Am I Making You Feel Sick?

TW: abuse and violence, disordered eating, death, abuse of a minor, SA

Summary:

Anthony Di'Angelo wasn't always like this, he had dreams like any other kid. Yet here he was at the ripe age of twenty, a crack whore with a shitty ass pimp and an even shittier means of living. As far as anyone was concerned this life would consume him and leave him to rot on the streets like many of those before him. His decline is ever apparent, especially to his next door neighbor who just happens to be a novelist from New Orleans who after many successes has begun to lose his spark. A wannabe lyricist who is damned to live life as a whore stuck in poverty and a twisted writer aren't quite a match made in Heaven but maybe the heavens weren't meant for them anyway.

Chapter 1 Snippet 🫶

Anthony’s life wasn’t really one worth living if he was being honest. He had a lousy apartment, lousy job, lousy friends, lousy attitude- he himself was simply lousy. Recognizing just how miserable he was did little to change anything, though, so he kept going with some weird faith that things may somehow, some way get better. Between being disowned by his family only to be taken in by a pimp disguised as a lover he wasn’t sure what else could possibly go astray.

He’d lost another ten pounds, which meant another size or two down, and another shopping spree which would soon enough result in spending funds he really didn't have right now. Maybe he shoulda picked up sewing like Molly- that perfect little angel- just so he wouldn’t have to waste time getting shit retailored. Staring at what became of himself in the mirror was fucking trippy. What stared back at him were large muted blue eyes smudged by smeared eyeliner and mascara, sunken in freckled cheeks, pale skin which was once sunkissed now tainted by bruises, a thin frame no longer toned and instead starved. Mobster to crack whore- what kinda transformation was that? A laughable one. Damn, if only Pa could see him now. Naw, Anthony didn’t wanna imagine it if he was being real honest.

Pulling off the slightly loose sticky latex one piece, the blonde reached over into his dresser for a tattered old tee he managed to convince Val to let him keep. He had to let Valentino know if he could wipe his ass for fuck's sake, God forbid he had a shirt the man didn't fuck with. Sliding on the shirt and some boxers which loosely fit his frame, Anthony quickly flung himself into bed. His mattress was stiff and his blankets were thin, but at least he managed to get a place to call his own. Moving out of Valentino’s was such a step forward- no more nightly beatings, no more degrading insults outside of work, no more being used and abused whenever wherever. Sure, he dealt with allat on the clock but the minute his shift ended he had somewhere to return to that was his own. He hadn’t had something to call his own in a long fucking time.

Staring up at his ceiling, Anthony couldn’t help but toss and turn, his head pounding and begging for attention. The boy was a mouthy one, and mouthy ones get put in their place real quick. Today was extra humbling for the blonde, his eye was puffed up and colored purple, a testament to his treatment. It wasn’t just his eye, he’d gotten a full body beat down today, but that meant he could stay out of work for a day or two til they gradually lost their color. Two days of lazing about? Fuck yes. He could really use the break.

Huffing, the thin blonde shoved his blanket aside as he stumbled onto his feet. Grabbing his lighter and a pack he kept ready at his night stand, Anthony made his way to his small balcony. The crisp air burned the blonde’s nostrils, a sensation he'd learned to adore as time went on. Shivering, he made his way over to the iron rails. He was hardly dressed, but that was something he was used to. Shutting his eyes, the blonde let himself feel the night’s frigidity, wanting to succumb to the numbness which would eventually overtake his limbs.

Lighting his cig, the boy scanned the night sky for some type of reassurance when the cold hadn’t done its job. Disappointed, the blonde knew the stars couldn’t give him any answers no matter how much he bothered them. So he pressed his lit cigarette to his lips, breathing in a burn which would warm his rotting core. The first huff wasn’t satisfying, nor was the second. Anthony was used to more nasty shit, nic did little to ease his mind. Well, it did help with the headaches, but the dancer was itching for something stronger tonight. Flashes of his last client wormed its way into his skull and Anthony could feel his shoulders tighten in anger and resentment. Clenching his jaw, the blonde rubbed at his eyes aggressively wincing in pain once he was reminded of the bruise that bitch left behind. That motherfucker was extra sleazy on the floor and in private, and he was a recurring patron. Lucky him, huh?

Frustrated, the man put forth all his weight onto the railing, letting his forehead rest against the cold metal, hoping some contact would relieve the pressure. Rubbing his forehead against the bar, Anthony felt his eyes burn familiarly. A pain settled in his throat, an achy pain that continued to increase in strength. His face burned in shame as he felt himself begin to sniffle. Ah God, he hated these types of nights. Everything was just too fucking much and he was just so tired and in so much pain. Whiny bitch he was, but at least he was a whiny bitch by his lonesome.

“God, I can't do this shit sober.” The blonde huffed, as he finished up his cigarette. Putting out the cigarette onto a used up ashtray, Anthony pushed himself off the railing. He just got through his last bottle of booze and he was aching for more. What? Cheap shit was all he could afford when he was away from Val. Matter of fact, Tony came to crave that shit simply because it signified he wasn't anywhere near that fucking cunt. He promised himself he wouldn’t spend any more pocket change on shit that was bad for him, but that obviously wasn’t going great. Nothing was ever going great, so drink til he got crunked was what he was gonna do. Slipping on some fuzzy light pink slippers and grabbing a coat, Anthony wrapped himself up real tight. Rummaging through his nightstand did he find his house key, some change, and his ID. Aw fuck, he had to get that shit updated. Staring back at him was his wide eyed seventeen year old self. If only he knew there wasn't anything in life to look that excited for. Smiling slightly at the picture of himself, Anthony shoved all that shit into his right pocket, shaking any longing that started to yank at his heart strings. He'd cry after he got fucked up.

Shutting his door and quickly locking up, the lithe dancer shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. His apartment complex was nice, not necessarily cozy but livable. Making his way down the stairs Anthony lost himself in thought. Nights like this he reminisced on back to when he didn’t rely on substances to feel warm, before he was labeled a deadman by his father, before his mother died. He thought back to sibling banter, Sundays post church, elementary school playgrounds. The blonde could feel himself getting choked up again, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling. If the man was being honest, dysthymia was such a comfort. Being sad was all Anthony knew how to do properly, and that in itself reassured him. The tightness of muscles when he was on the brink of a meltdown felt akin to the ghost of a hug, something the man was desperate for. Funny thing was, he got hugs all the time- none of them were fucking genuine though.

Making his way down the staircase, the boy felt a bit of his mind dwindle with every step. His mind was going numb, instead he focused on his breathing and the way his bones felt like they were being suffocated under his skin. He focused on the way his hips ached, and his eye burned, barely able to keep itself open because of how swollen it'd grown to be. He could feel every spot that man touched him, like his finger tips were pressed so deeply into his skin they left a mark not just on skin, nor fat, nor muscle, but on his fucking nerves. He could see the way the man looked at him in a disgusting lustful haze, and how he had to pretend he liked every second of getting his ass handed to him. He saw himself, and he saw himself drowning deeper into the pit he had created for himself the second he got disowned. He could feel just how much it hurt to breathe, so Anthony forced himself to gasp heavily like a fish out of water. The sting was nice, he wished that was all he could feel for forever. His body on autopilot, the dancer was met with a light which dimly lit up the corner store before he knew it. Cheap liquor? Not his favorite, but it did the trick. It made his brain fill with static. And static was all he wanted to hear and see for the rest of his shitty life.

[milkywayan]

Saturday, it is -13C outside, and going to snow later, I am retailoring an old wool skirt from my grandmother so it fits me, and am making brokkoli creme soup from scratch, because I finally got a handmixer :)

[char-lady-customs]

Ever After High Blondie Repaint and Rework! I spent a lot of time and effort on this repaint. I cut up her dress and retailored it, added so much gold thread. Also added ribbons and buttons and a crimson under skirt. Restyled the hair, obviously redid the face, painted her accessories.

And I made her a little bear friend! I hope you like her, I put a lot of love into her!!

She’s for sale here : https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/CupofCustoms