#Honestly it depends what the purpose of the mannequin is!

[devon-usher]

Favorite material from which to construct definitely-not-independently-mobile mannequins?

A few examples as food for thought: Wooden (although it’s almost certainly never been part of a tree)? Typical shopping-mall plastic (almost)? Not-quite-skin? Actual skin?

For the sake of Uncanny, the good ol' skin-covered plastic is a classic. The feel of something hard and cold sliding under something soft and- yknow.

Otherwise I'm a fan of metal-plastic mix! Silicone is a good way to hide the cracks between the plastic shells which cover metallic pistons and gears and the like. Classic animatronic style! Kind of like that new FNAF game... Sister Location, I think? But the tube innards aren't as efficient as normal pneumatics and motors/servos, in my opinion.

[nihilnovisubsole]

so on my recent trip to socal, i had just enough time for a brief stop at FIDM’s emmy nominee exhibit. everything there was gorgeous, but i was on a mission, and that mission was to get reference close-ups of aziraphale’s costume. if there’s anything i love, it’s thinking way too hard about menswear, so i decided to write up a deep dive to go with them!

these photos are as close as i could get without tripping over the display, and as close as i could zoom my camera in without losing too much clarity. below the cut, i’ve added more thoughts and info about the outfit’s details. honestly, you could get most of this from staring hard enough at behind-the-scenes photos and promotional art. but it was a fun outing, and if it’s any help to anyone’s writing, art, or cosplay needs, that’s just the cherry on top.

[sidenote: i passed a crowd of cosplayers on their way out of the museum - a handful of crowleys and aziraphales and, i believe, a beelzebub. if you were at the exhibit on saturday, september 7th, and you left around 1 PM, i saw you! you looked great!]

NO. 1

aziraphale hand-ties his bow tie in a basic knot called “thistle,” “butterfly,” or “classic” depending on who you ask. though bow ties may not be standard now, it’s a style he could wear for decades without it calling attention to itself as “so dated it’s absurd.” this isn’t the only thing on aziraphale’s costume that, like him, exists a little outside of time. it’s an eccentric mix of pieces that are firmly dickensian and things that could float freely through the last 150 years.

on film, the tie looks bluish-beigey-gray depending on the light, but in person, it’s a dark, desaturated beige. the fabric is thin enough that i’m guessing it’s not wool, but without feeling it, i’m not sure whether it’s linen or matte silk. all i can tell you is that it’s not burberry plaid, though i bet he’d feel at home in a burberry-plaid-lined trench.

speaking of colors, i’ve seen people scratch their heads over whether aziraphale’s shirt is white - which would be traditional - or pale blue. after squinting at it and color-swatching it in photoshop, i think it’s white. if it’s blue, it’s so pale that it doesn’t matter. or does it? oh my god, this is going to bother me.

[edit: i’ve since heard on the costume designer’s authority that it’s pale blue. it’s so close to white, though. do with that what you will.]

NO. 2

after over a century of being put on and taken off, the velvet on aziraphale’s waistcoat is starting to lose its nap. the main wear is around the buttonholes, but there’s also some on the neck where it rubs against his shirt collar and the pocket where he hangs his chain.

the buttons on his frock coat are probably horn, and the buttons on his waistcoat have tiny gold rosettes. his trousers also have a very, very subtle stripe. it’s funny to see all the things the camera doesn’t pick up!

the real reason i took this picture was to get as good a shot as possible of his watch chain. i assume the actual watch is tucked in his pocket, and what we see out front is his medal from heaven or an ornamental charm. the chain is cable-link and the medallion has an ornate border, and the figure in the middle is an angel with its wings unfurled. i would’ve loved to get an even sharper shot and see for sure, but this is the best i could do within the confines of the exhibit. sorry!

NO. 3

i sweat bullets trying to pin down the style of aziraphale’s shoes before i finally googled my way to an answer: balmoral boots! they’re a victorian walking boot that became popular to pair with a frock coat, with contrasting suede(?) uppers and an oxford-style cap toe. while the leather parts almost glow gold in certain pics from the show, they’re a nice, rather rich caramel color in person. not that i would have been scandalized if they actually were gold. we know from the french revolution that aziraphale likes flashy shoes.

while i’m on it, i’ll admit that i love that good omens fans have just collectively decided that aziraphale wears sock garters. you understand me. i’m not going to say anything else.

in this pose, you can’t quite see how aziraphale’s trousers break, and i wonder if the mannequin is a little taller than michael sheen. on him, the un-cuffed hems have either a quarter- or half-break, a nice, standard pant length that never goes out of style. part of me is surprised they didn’t go with a more fusty, vintage full break, but... you know what? no. i’m already so deep down this rabbit hole, i cannot believe i’m sitting here researching victorian pant breaks. moving ON

NO. 4

aziraphale’s two coat cuff buttons sit on a decorative tab, and based on his lifestyle, i’m guessing they’re just for show. while functioning cuff buttons - or “surgeon’s cuffs” - are a lavish sign of a bespoke suit, aziraphale wouldn’t have needed them for their original purpose. the coat has deep flap pockets, and there’s a seam around the waistline, which was typical for victorian frock coats.

from this angle, the cuff buttons look like they’re solid beige, instead of the natural color variation in the horn buttons on the front. are they bone, maybe? did he have to replace them at some point? if he’s kept the coat pristine for over 180 years, but is averse to fixing it with miracles, he may very well have had to take it to a tailor here and there.

i asked my mother, who’s an experienced sewer, what fabric she thought the coat was made of. her guess was either linen, a light, almost summer-weight wool, or a blend of the two to produce that kind of twill. it seems like it’d be cold to wear that year-round in england, but i guess if you’re an angel, you don’t have to worry about being cold, do you?

PS: after more googling, i’ve been reminded that wool-linen blends are forbidden in deuteronomy and leviticus. part of me says, come on. it couldn’t possibly be that deep. on the other hand, this is the show that had gabriel wear shoes called “monk straps.” even if it’s not a blend, it’s hilarious to think about in the context of aziraphale being casually profane.

[drownedstarlight]

I was tagged by @dusterthedopop @weirdnproudofit @themefo and @rederiswrites and may I just say that I’m honestly kind of baffled by the fact? In a nice way, of course (think Bryan Cranston saying ‘Me?’ in that one gif) . :)

20 Questions

Rules: answer 20 questions and then tag 20 people who you want to get to know better.

Nickname: I don’t think I had one since elementary school. Even then it was actually longer than my given name, and used to mock me, but I kind of liked it. Azrael. Later learned it was also an angel of death in Christian lore, so there you go.

Zodiac: Want the full deal? Aries/Taurus cusp, Libra ascendant, Pisces moon. I’m a mess of contradictions.

Height: 5′5″ (ish? 167 cm)

Last movie I saw: Uhhhhhh... This might sound silly, but I don’t really watch movies unless I’m unintentionally drawn in. And by that I mean stop in the middle of the living room for an hour because I got so engrossed in what was happening on screen I forgot what I was doing or even that there are surfaces available for me to sit down.

Last thing I googled: What the poseable doll for drawing was called. It’s a mannequin.

Favourite musician: That depends? I never settled on any one in particular, my taste in music is all over the place. Lately I can’t get enough of Florence + the Machine. Before her, I had a Chet Faker period that lasted for a few months. OK, it lasted a year. Don’t judge me.

Song stuck in my head:  There are a few actually. Fleurie - Soldier, Florence - ‘Wish that you were here’ and ‘Shake it out’

Other blogs: I’ve @noodlingdoodle - my sketchy blog, and @craftspirations - where I post inspiration and tutorials. There are a couple of others but those are currently empty.

Do I get asks: Not really... (I’m still fairly new to tumblr, so I’m still figuring out what exactly is the purpose of asks? If anyone wants to enlighten me, feel free.)

Following: More than I thought? People keep dropping by and staying. It’s nice.

Amount of sleep: A sore spot right there. I need 8 to function like a human being. Sadly, I haven’t been able to get to that magical number since I gave birth. Soooo, like 6 on a good day. 2 hr naps on bad days if the kids are ill or I’m an idiot and stay up all night reading. I’m known to be that idiot.

Lucky number: 13. Paired with Friday. Heh. I love Friday 13th. Not the movie, the date. A lot of good stuff happens every time.

What I’m wearing:  I’m lounging in my pinkest satin neglige, all delicate and pretty.  -_-  Really? The point of this question? (´･_･`) Anyway. Too many layers of clothes. I hate cold. But the top layer is an ancient, warmest hoodie I have, and a pair of sweatpants.

Dream job: Artist, I guess... I’d like to be able to sell the stuff I make and support myself with it.

Dream trip: At this moment, I literally want to go somewhere warm. Generally, uh, too many to count. I’d like to see the pyramids. Venice. Rome. Pompei. India (though everyone who’s ever been there is telling me not to go?) Taj Majal. Angkor Wat. Chichen Itza, Tikal, Mayan ruins in general. (Oh. I just realized I’d mostly like to go look at ruins.  Huh. Blame the documentaries.)

Play any instruments: Nope, unfortunately. Always wanted to learn to play the piano. And the guitar.

Languages: Croatian, English, Italian, French. I also started learning Turkish, but with 2 toddlers at home it didn’t go so well, so

Favourite songs: It changes. But for a while now it’s been Soul Asylum - Runaway train, Muse - Map of the Problematique and Pretender by Foo Fighters

Random fact: Uh. Something interesting then? I have no clue if this is interesting but here goes - I collect books, fiction and instructional (mostly in electronic form though). I currently have more than I’ll ever be able to read, and it’s possible if they were all printed, I’d have a small library.

There you go, I hope this was informative. I didn’t seem like there was so much to write while I was reading other peoples?  ＼(◎o◎)／

Tagging: I have no idea who already did these so feel free to ignore me. Also feel free to consider yourself tagged if you want to share, I love finding out these little tidbits about mutuals.  :)

@onionjuggler @dirthara-mama @pocketpeanuts @elveny @rhunae @wicked-eyes-and-wicked-hearts @gingerbreton @meliciousintent @bearly-tolerable @cl0udb3rry @rosenrotxiii @knallbart

[wesoccerpassionthings-blog]

Soccer Equipment - The Perfect Tools to Improve Your Game

Depart your warring parties in a spin"

when you have right soccer gadget nothing can hold you, or your squad, from improving. unless you do not use it. in the end, wherein would a excellent artist be without his paints, brush, and canvas?

Check out more on Ahmed Musa

effects!

while you pair the proper soccer device with great soccer drills you may make terrific improvement of your abilities, or the abilities of your crew. extra skills, better effects, sure?

so permit's test out...

what's out there?

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soccer balls! the game of soccer revolves round that perfectly spherical football ball. football balls have specific sizes based totally at the age level of the gamers that use them. they also range in coloration scheme and design. all of us recognise we want to growth our endurance to play soccer, but with out ball capabilities you're just a runner. football baggage! an clean to carry bag for all those football balls is a good investment. who likes having all the ones balls flying round on your car? and what about...

carrying all of your football equipment. just find a super layout and a bag so that it will set you apart, or show your aid in your favorite football club. it's k to be an man or woman whilst being a sturdy piece of your football team puzzle.

improve your agility! you could improve this a part of your game with agility ladders that lay flat on the ground, or agility poles that stick inside the floor. they may be fantastic for slalom exercise. or you could use cones at the floor, however while using poles it is greater realistic. it suggests that there is honestly an opponent for your manner. banana steps and hurdles are 2 other gear in order to enhance your agility. soccer dreams

soccer desires are available a spread of various sizes for special purposes.

the total size purpose is available for regulation sized soccer fields. however, there are a variety of sizes to be had for practicing small-sided video games and for young people football. these consist of transportable soccer goals and indoor soccer dreams of numerous sizes that depend upon the dimensions of the indoor website. football desires will typically come complete with a football net so ensure that you take a look at that out.

different choices! there are many different soccer device objects to be had for soccer training. those alternatives can encompass but are not restricted to: training chutes kicking trainers soccer corner flags remedy balls football tennis nets soccer mannequins football rebounder

each one has its location on your training software.

remember the fact that the pleasant piece of device that you could have is your mind. staying centered on improving your recreation will offer faster and more powerful blessings than all of the football gadget you could buy.

[starrychat]

shooting star — ml fanfic

SHOOTING STAR // available on ao3

She climbs to his room every night and every night, they live in a world known to them only. They have always been best friends, two sides of the same coin, two halves of the same soul. There had never been any ambiguity between them. So when things start to go downhill, why does looking into his deep green eyes hurt so much? // childhood friends AU

If you appreciate it, please reblog, leave kudos and comment, it really helps! 

CHAPTER ONE - PROLOGUE

Her lips curled into a smile as her needle pierced the light fabric. It had been a while since she'd worked with chiffon but when her mom gifted her seven meters of this gorgeous baby blue material, she knew she had to do something with it. And Marinette had to admit, she was quite proud of herself. Sure, the dress was not even halfway done and sure, that seam was a little wonky and would need some restitching; but she was amazed everytime a sketch quickly scribbled onto the corner of a notebook could come to life under her clumsy fingers. And this dress was coming beautifully.

The needle danced in her hands as Marinette started humming a song that had been stuck in her head all-day. It kept playing at the café and even though she had never heard it before, she was pretty sure she knew all the lyrics by heart now. It had been a long busy day at the coffeeshop and she was glad to be home, away from the never-ending stress of tripping on her own feet and spilling hot tea and creamy cheesecake onto clients. If only she was not this gauche when doing anything else other than sewing.

But well, she was a disaster when it came to handling things. All sort of things.

Marinette knew her boss had accepted her only because she could bake delicious pastries. Certainly not because of her skill with handling breakable things. Remembering her first day at the café a few months ago still made her cringe. She spent way too much time apologizing and sweeping shards of glasses instead of actually serving people. It was a good thing she actually grew up in a bakery, helping around whenever she was needed. Her dad had been the most wonderful teacher. She could melt people's heart with some flour, some butter, some eggs and a whip.

A yawn interrupted her work and she glanced at the clock. "Oh shoot," she sighed, "it's already eleven."

Pinning the piece of fabric she was working on onto the mannequin, she got up and stretched her arms and yawned even louder.

Marinette undid the short ponytail that kept her hair secure everytime she was sewing, letting her bob cut free. She had always had short hair and it had taken her until the last year of lycée to finally decide to let go of the childish pigtails. She still liked them very much but honestly, she just grew tired of Alya teasing her constantly about it. She had cut the strands of midnight hair a little shorter now, just below her chin. Just long enough to tie it but short enough it did not bother her.

After quickly discarding her skirt and shirt and slipping into her more comfortable old pyjamas, Marinette put on her favorite pair of sneakers. Not the most fashionable outfit she had worn to leave the house. But, hey, she stopped caring about that a long time ago when it came to that. She grabbed a bag and stuffed it with things littering her desk, and then threw it onto her shoulder. Turning off all the lights in the room except for the one on her bedside, she climbed through her window onto her balcony.

Marinette breathed in the fresh air of the night. The moon was still low in the sky on this autumnal night. Even though she was more of a day kinda girl, she still appreciated the calm that fell onto her neighborhood once the sun was nowhere to be seen. She just knew she'd appreciate it a lot more if Paris' pollution did not hide the sparkling stars.

"Alright!" Marinette exclaimed. She had been doing that for several years now, but she still felt that weird tangling sensation in her chest everytime. As if she were still a child doing something forbidden, a secret only she knew about.

She tip-toed and grabbed the border of the roof, pulling herself up. When she was smaller —well, she is still fairly small but when she was smaller—, she had to put a chair on the balcony for the sole purpose of leaving it. She knew that, being the clumsing mess she is, wandering the roofs of Paris at night was not a fantastic idea. She couldn't help but think that one day she'll slip and fall and die. Well, she certainly hoped not but even Marinette could admit her tendency to get herself in trouble unwillingly.

Crossing her fingers he'd be there, she dropped onto a nearby balcony with a loud 'thump'.

When Marinette saw the light through the large sliding glass door, the biggest of smiles broke onto her face. The excitement pulsing in her veins doubled.

Entering the room quietly, she took a few steps and paused. Here he was, at his desk, playing some videogame she did not recognize. His back was turned on her and all she could see was messy blond hair. She could hear the music his headphones were playing and rolled her eyes. How many times had she told him to lower that? That boy did not know how to take care of himself she swore. If he ended up deaf, at least she could tell him 'Told you so!'

Marinette opened her bag, and, finally finding what she was looking for, she tossed a big pack of candies on his desk. It landed just before him. Loudly.

Nevertheless, she was very happy when he jumped. He quickly removed his headphones and turned around. When his vibrant green (and visibly annoyed) eyes found her, he sighed.

"I— Fuck Mari, you scared the shit out of me." Adrien did not seem impress at all.

She let out a giggle. "Come on Adrien, I haven't seen you in over a week and that's how you greet me?"

"You're hopeless, you know that?" He shook his head with desperation but Marinette saw the small smile painting his lips. He had to be at least as ecstatic to see her that she was.

Putting his controler down, but not before pausing his game, he raised one eyebrow at Mari's outfit who just shrugged. "Well, yeah," she hummed, "that's why you love me, isn't it?"

Adrien sighed once again, dramatically this time, making Marinette laugh. She had always loved teasing him, ever since they met. He was her best friend after all, the one who put up with her on an almost daily-basis. He made awful puns, she was insufferable; that's just the way they were. But they were a match made in heaven —in more than ten years of friendship and counting, they never had a single serious dispute.

Honestly, Marinette could never have asked for a more perfect friend than Adrien: she was pretty sure he was the nicest, funniest guy in the whole world. Seeing him always brought a smile on her face. He was the only one to know how she felt at any given time, the only one to know how to dry her tears and make her laugh even in the worsts of times.

"You gotta stop doing that you know." He opened the pack of candies, marshmallows, and happily bit into one (a pink one, he always ate the pink ones first).

"Doing what?"

"Barging into my room without warning me."

"Oh that." Marinette flashed him her white teeth. "What's the fun in that?"

He tossed a marshmallow to Marinette, who caught it as she plopped onto his couch. "It could be really awkward, you know." He bit into another pink one. Gosh, he loved Haribo's marshmallows so much. "For the both of us."

"I've already seen your butt that time you got out of the shower, remember? What could be more awkward than that, eh?" She recalled that afternoon very well. Adrien's face had been almost as red as it was right now. (She refused to admit hers had been even redder.)

And red he was. He felt all the blood rush to his cheeks, in the way only Marinette knew how to make him blush. That had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. As if he could forget. That was around the time he had this silly crush on her —a silly, silly crush— and the adrenaline pump the scene had given him was more than what he needed in a month.

"Th- That's exactly why you should at least send me a text, Mari." Adrien stammered. He was still glowing a pretty scarlet color and he knew that Marinette loved every single bit of it.

She rolled her eyes and caught another candy he threw her way, with as much speed he could give to a flying marshmallow, in the hope it hit her in the face. It didn't.

Marinette blew him a kiss. He pushed it away with a flick of his hand.

"So, Agreste," he hated when she called him that, "how was Toulouse?" she asked, blinking her almond-shaped blue eyes with genuine curiosity.

She had really missed him, even if he had only been gone for a week. It was surprising how she had grown so dependant of him over the years. She knew Adrien was a model and a really busy one at that, but she could not help wanting him to stay here, available all the time. Not even Alya could fill the empty space he left in her everytime he was far away and too busy to answer her texts.

"Nice." he answered truthfully.

Marinette grumbled. "Urgh— I've never been there! Give me some details!"

Adrien happily obliged. Their relationship had always been simple, without any ambiguity. They could chat all night, every night and always have new things to say. Words came so easily between them, nothing was too taboo to say. Adrien had always been a reserved person, the last one to talk about how he felt and how he thought. But Mari's bubbly personnality always knew how to make him open up. So they talked. About Toulouse, about Marinette's ridiculous teddybear-patterned pyjamas, about that new game he had discovered, about work and fashion and life. They talked for dozens and dozens of minutes, happy to just be with each other.

He had moved to the couch somehow during their conversation, facing Marinette from the other side of it. The marshmallows were long gone, the empty pack on the floor a sad testimony of their common sweet tooth.

Marinette yawned once again and giggled when that made the blond yawn as well. She was feeling really sleepy right now but she did not want to leave the comfort of Adrien's room, which had become a little bit her room as well now. She craved his presence after a week of not seeing him and no sleepy eyes and exhausted body will take that from her.

"High School Musical?" she asked, pulling the dvd from her bag, already knowing the answer. They both knew very well it was one of their guilty pleasures, the kind you don't tell publicly. And they would most certainly not tell a soul that they both knew every line of dialogue by heart — and that Adrien could make a very honorable Troy Bolton impression.

"Hell yes." Adrien grinned. He stood up and grabbed a thick blanket lying not far away, before coming back to the couch, the blanket in one hand and his laptop in the other one. No sooner had he sat that Marinette came next to him, snuggling against his warm torso under the blanket. A fond smile painted his lips and he adjusted his position so that she would be more comfortable.

He set the film going and soon enough, Marinette's breathing steadied and she closed her eyes. She felt home.