#like the pushing daisies piece this one's too long to fit most of the products

[djemsostylist]

The Great Dizi List, Part 3a (The Summer Dizis and Son Yaz)

This list is comprised of dizis I'm currently watching. Some are in progress, some are on break. I'm in the process of watching all of them.

Son Yaz: This one is a dizi that has been recommended by countless people, but I had put off watching until closer to the second season. This is ostensibly a mafia drama, but I think a closer fit would be a family drama. It reminds me most of the old CW dramas, like Everwood (or Friday Night Lights as @lolo-deli said) with teens and their parents as the core of the story. It's good, and I think I'll enjoy it more as the story progresses. I'm a lot more interested in the parents right now and their struggles and in Selim and Akgün's burgeoning bromance--the teens are a little, well, teeny for me right now, but I suspect they'll grow as time progresses and we leave some of the more cliché storylines behind. (I had initially compared Akgün to characters like Cihangir and Yiğit or Sarp, but he's just a little too young and dumb to be compared to those men.)

Baş Belesı: This show is currently ongoing, and I think it's best described as a copy dramedy, in the vein of MI. It has a Pushing Daisies kind of vibe to it--not necessarily in the quirkiness, but the feel of it if that makes sense. The cases are serious but are handed with a sort of irreverent hilarity that makes it fun, and the focus of the show is fairly firmly on Ipek and Şahin and their respective families and issues. The two leads have excellent chemistry, and they work wonderfully together. This show is fun and smart and light, and the latest episode was deeply heartwarming. There is an element of "found family" that I really love, and the inevitable slow burn romance makes this an all around delight. I would highly recommend, and it's the only dizi I see having the legs to handle a long run...the plot changes weekly and the focus is mostly on the family, which makes it easy to have content into fall.

Ada Masalı: I've written a few pieces on this show on tumblr, but this is pretty much as pure romcom as you can get. The plot itself is straight-forward and doesn't really ask much from the viewer other than to sit back and enjoy the pretty. But the characters are solid (both lead and secondary), it balances humor with seriousness, and it subverts enough tropes while giving us others in a way that makes the two hours you are watching it breeze by. As with all romcoms, the main draw is the lead couple, so if you aren't feeling them, I wouldn't recommend. But as long as it ends by not later than 20, I think this romcom would join HYS as the only romcom I would recommend.

Cam Tavanlar: This show reminded me a lot of Yeni Hayat if I'm being honest, in that it had a really great premise and the first two episodes were strong, the actors were good, and then...it just kind of went nowhere. (Turns out both were made by the same production company, which is interesting.) This is a story of women in business and the sexism they endure, but after episode 2 the script seemed to lose its way. It became a meandering story with poor pacing and a wishy washy main character, who seemed to vacillate between trying to be the strong woman we could believe in and the stereotypical Turkish romcom heroine--who is honestly not that interesting. I felt like there were threads early on that have so far gone nowhere, character motivations and backstories are still unclear, and overall I just find myself growing increasingly apathetic as the weeks go on. With rumors that it's being cancelled running wild, I can't say I'd be all that sad to see it end. A quick wrap up may be a mercy for a show that seems to not be clear on what it truly wants to be.

I'm not watching any of the other summer shows--keeping up with two is hard enough, and none of the other romcoms are doing it for me just based off gifs/fragmans. The problem with romcoms (and it's likely why I've only finished 1 ) is that if the main couple doesn't do it for you, it's just not worth it. I've heard variously good things about BO and AMI, but I'm shallow enough that neither couple is doing it for me aesthetically, so I think I'll pass for now. I am looking forward to fall dizis, and am looking to start Kuzey Guney next, though this one is something of an undertaking. And always, I'm hoping for Halka season 2!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3b

#djem watches dizis #dizis #son yaz #cam tavanlar #ada masalı #Baş Belesı

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

The Ethereal Gates of Wisdom

These past few days have been a bit of an unusual adventure. It’s one of those things I’ve been putting off for a while until the opportunity’s right. Traveling to the Ethereal Gates of Wisdom is no easy feat so it’s important to have a strategy on how to get there without getting lost.

According to Jamie, most people give up halfway because it takes too long to get there. That’s why they said only those who truly seek answers are the ones who make it to the Gates. Jamie gave me the key years ago and since then that adventure has been sitting on the back burner until a couple days ago.

The reason why I finally decided to visit the Gates is for Daisy Jane. Now that she’s been living at the campsite for a couple weeks, she’s been doing a lot of soul searching and reevaluation. The past year hasn’t been good to her so I’m glad that she’s finally found a light at the end of a long and seemingly endless tunnel.

A change of scenery can do wonders for your mind, especially if you’ve been stagnating for a while. That’s why Daisy Jane left Rosevine - because the place she once called home was suffocating her instead of letting her bloom and grow.. That’s how I felt too, as well as other friends like Emmaline, Minnie, and Robin. 

It’s not that we don’t like Rosevine, it’s just that we outgrew our little hometown. Our roots are still in Rosevine, but we’ve branched out to other places. Like flowers on a tree, we are carried away by the wind, floating and fluttering as we find our way in this vast universe. Some take root, others continue to fly freely.

Ever since Daisy Jane joined me at the camp, she’s been on a creative roll. For the past several months she was suffering the absolute worst art block along with a bunch of other problems that wore her down. After leaving home, she traveled for a bit before settling in Neptunia. The village, while it was nice, didn’t do much for her. So that’s why I suggested she move in the cabin and since then she’s made it her home.

For a while Daisy Jane has been considering opening a shop where she sells handmade crafts and stationery. I think she’s the kind of person who can pull that off because not only she’s super artsy, but she’s also organized and has the self discipline to run her own business. Unfortunately her family’s the main reason why she hasn’t started a shop yet as they don’t think it’s viable. As long as she was living under the same roof as them and not working a “real” job with income, an online business was out of the question.

Now that she’s out on her own with no parents or siblings to hound her as well as having her own space and income, Daisy Jane feels like she’s in the right headspace to design products for her potential shop. She’s been on a roll designing sticker sheets, which will be her main thing before branching out to other products like notebooks and enamel pins. Since she loves drawing florals and ephemera, Daisy Jane plans to call her store Happy Floral Mail, which I think is very fitting.

I’m not being biased, I would definitely buy Daisy Jane’s stickers. After all, she’s one of many artists I find inspiration from so why wouldn’t I want to support her?

Apparently a while ago Daisy Jane told her sister about her ideas regarding opening a shop as Mae’s in college studying digital media so she’s an expert on various programs. Mae’s a smart kid who means well but sometimes she can be a bit too much. 

Basically if Daisy Jane decided to co-run her shop with Mae, it would have failed before it even launched. The biggest issue would be creative differences because they’re basically opposites in terms of everything. It’s like telling an artist who likes to draw flowers that they have to draw cars because that’s what’s trending and if you disagree then you’re being ungrateful because you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about. 

So it’s that, plus the fact that Mae can be weirdly controlling and nosy at times. Like she’s strangely obsessed with who Daisy Jane keeps in contact with. Apparently if Daisy Jane isn’t constantly video chatting or talking on the phone or talking about socializing with someone, then she doesn’t have friends according to Mae logic. I get that Mae’s the kind of person who talks about everything - even when it’s not in her place - but she really needs to learn how to let people be.

Another thing about Mae which is pretty recent is how she sees most of Daisy Jane’s friends like me and Emmaline. Once upon a time Mae used to look up to Emmaline because she thought she was cool as she was always going on magical adventures. Now she kinda looks down on Emmaline because she doesn’t meet her definition of success. As in Emmaline never went to school so she has no degrees as well as no job or career (freelancing and odd jobs don’t count) so in Mae’s eyes, Emmaline’s a layabout.

Having grown up with Emmaline, calling her a layabout is such a misunderstanding. Being half elemental, Emmaline’s upbringing is far from ordinary. She spent her whole childhood and adolescence trying to bring her two worlds together, often putting herself in a position no one should be forced in and although she helped a lot of people, it had a detrimental effect on her mental health. Considering how Emmaline pretty much spent a good part of her life playing either peacemaker, therapist, fleeing war criminal, and diplomat - and is now finally finding footing by traveling the universe and enjoying life - to call her a layabout is an insult.

And yes, this is in response to a vague post Mae made in regards to not being on Emmaline and Minnie’s guest list for their wedding. Daisy Jane shared it to us and we all rolled our eyes collectively because yikes Mae. Like first of all, it wasn’t anything personal, it’s just that the wedding will take place while she’s studying abroad so there’s no way she was going to make it. Also, Emmaline and Minnie aren’t as close to her as they are to Daisy Jane so there’s really no reason why she should be offended at not being invited.

I’m curious as to what Mae would vague about me when she finds out where Daisy Jane’s been living. Don’t get me wrong, Mae’s a very capable girl who’s gonna be super successful but she really needs to get off her high horse. It’s understandable that she has a chip on her shoulder that pushes her to be hard working but as she’s gotten older she seems to have fallen into the mindset that if you’re not working your ass off, then you’re not worthy.

Anyway, now that Daisy Jane’s found her footing in terms of her creative spark returning and getting away from those holding her back, she feels like she’s ready to take a leap of faith. She says she still has a long way to go before opening a shop but the timing feels right. That’s why I decided to take her to the Gates - to give her the extra push she needs to bring herself one step closer to making her dream a reality.

First, we headed to the Witches Woods to retrieve the ruby key, which will lead us to a portal. Since it’s not too far from Camellia, Theda tagged along to guide us through the woods as she’s somewhat familiar with certain parts of it. The trails can be long and confusing so it’s good to have a navigator help us out. 

The deeper in the woods we go, the more dangerous it gets. The trees act as a defense system so if you’re not careful, you might get pelted by poison fruit or clawed by sharp branches. Plus there’s hostile creatures to watch out for as well, especially the giant spiders that usually come out of nowhere. Despite the seemingly harsh environment, the witches we came across are friendly and some were able to help point us in the right direction when the trees played tricks on us.

After the woods came the Floating Freeway, a well known highway for traveling through dimensions. There, Celinda joined in on the adventure as she can easily weave in and out of places easily with her powers. With her help, navigating the crowded freeway will take about half the time. 

From there, we headed to the Scattering Skies where we have to travel by magic carpet. It’s a rough ride as the winds are unpredictable so it’s important to have a pilot who’s just as reckless - meaning Celinda. And there’s also swinging swords with sharp edges floating freely about so we gotta worry about that too. Getting through the Skies and retrieving the jade key in one piece is no easy feat so if that isn’t enough to discourage you from going to the Gates, then that says a lot about your character in my opinion.

At the crossing, the jade key led us to another portal, taking us to the Floundering Forests, where we met up with Lenie. She and her parents have been exploring the forest for the past few weeks so they’re somewhat familiar with the trails. Lenie always wanted to see the Gates so it was the perfect opportunity! 

The thing about the Floundering Forests is that we need to arm ourselves with magic wands. Some areas have been overtaken by city folks who want to build factories so they’ll attack anything that moves. They’re also not the kind of people you want to get on the wrong side of so a basic sleep spell will do the trick to slip past them. Also, this forest tends to play tricks on you too so it’s important to keep track of where you’re going.

After finding the carnelian key, we headed to the Layering Lagoon, navigating by submarine piloted by Lenie. Through there, we locate the ruins of Castellana, which will lead us to the Gates. Lenie drove the sub, Celinda and I distracted lagoon monsters, Theda helped navigate, and Daisy Jane supervised everyone.

It really takes a team to get to the Gates of Ethereal Wisdom! There’s no way anyone can make it on a solo adventure, especially when confronting the currents and inhabitants of the Layering Lagoon. 

By my calculations, it took us about three days - starting from Witches Woods - to get to the Gates. If Theda, Celinda, and Lenie hadn’t tagged along I guess it’ll take me and Daisy Jane at least twice as long. It was a long trip, but it was totally worth it!

Stepping into the Ethereal Gates of Wisdom is like walking straight into a void. First you feel like you’re falling, then slowly you realize that you’re actually floating. You feel weightless like a leaf in the wind, floating freely without a care in the world. For a second I forgot that I had a physical form - and that was a trippy experience. A bit disoriented, very much exhilarated, small and alone yet wide and full - all of it crashing in on you.

I still can’t put into words how exactly I feel after stepping out of the Gates. I feel certain yet uncertain at the same time - like I have a better idea of what I want but I also realize how little I actually know about things. Something’s changed, that I know for sure, but whatever it is, I can’t quite put my finger on it yet.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

[ill-skillsgard]

Sweet Words - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Sweet Words

Description: Life is crashing down around you but he is always there to feed you sweet words.

Warning: 18+ for mental health struggles/fluffy smut/swearing

A/N: This is a super special and rare lil request fill for @bride-of-freddy-krueger because she was my very first mutual and I love her. You are wonderful and deserve everything, darling <3 Kisses!

The house was a disaster and you could have spent your time cleaning it but you were far too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Every time you lifted a limb to drag yourself off the couch, you gave up, claiming internally that there was no point in cleaning—No point in doing anything productive. Everything was going to just go back to the way it was anyway, so why bother? You had lost your job. Whatever, there were jobs everywhere. You were doing terribly in school. It's fine, you could try harder. Your mental health felt like it was chipping away piece by piece. No matter, you could go see a shrink and get yourself patched up eventually. But right now, as you laid limply on the couch, you groaned in misery. What if you never came out of this? What if you were doomed to fail no matter how hard you tried? What then? Would a clean house really help clear your head enough? Probably not, you decided. Surging emotions bubbled to the surface all at once and exited your body in the form of scalding tears that stung your eyes and plugged up your nose so you had to breathe through your mouth while sobbing. You pressed your face into the cushions and let loose. All the negative feelings you had been experiencing stumbled over each other, rushing to leave your throat at the same time. Was this your wavering mental state making its dramatic appearance? Was this hormones? You couldn't tell what was real and wasn't anymore. Was this true despair? It must have been because you had never felt so helpless in your life. "Um, are you okay?" A voice asked. You lifted your face from the couch cushion, leaving behind tear stains to look up, red-faced and sniffling at Bill who had just let himself in. Through all your crying you hadn't heard him coming in. He stared at you with his eyes glazing over. It looked as though he were going to begin crying as well. From behind his back he produced a small cellophane wrapped bouquet of bright white and yellow daisies. You gasped when you saw them and sat up, using the backs of your palms to swipe away the wetness from your cheeks. "Oh my god," you murmured. "Babe? What are you doing? Why are you crying?" The question alone was enough to bring forth another spring of tears and he went to you on the couch, passed you the bouquet and sat beside you with his arm thrown over your shoulders. "I'm sorry," you began. "I just... I feel so useless and stupid. This shit inside of my head... I'm just afraid. Fuck—" "What are you afraid of?" He asked. You laid your head on his shoulder and tried to breathe his scent through your stuffy nose. Suddenly you felt embarrassed that he had caught you in the middle of an emotional fit. "I'm afraid that I'm a fucking failure." "But you're not a failure." "Yes, I am." Bill angled himself closer to you and ran his hands up your neck and through the strands of hair behind your ears. "Have you given up?" "What?" "Have you given up on everything? Are you going to stay on the couch for the rest of your life crying?" "N-no," you stammered. "You're going to cry it out and get back up?" "I want to." "Then you're not a failure." "But... Everything I've worked hard for has just exploded in my face." "Yes," Bill agreed, drilling you with his eyes. "That happens. That's life, honey. And I know that you're battling some shit inside of you but... If you haven't given up yet, then you're not a failure. So don't talk like that." "I can't help it. I can't control my emotions. I feel like I've lost control of everything." Bill kissed you hard despite how moist your cheeks were. He didn't care. He had had enough of hearing you rip yourself apart. "That happens too, you know. You're only human. Sometimes we try so hard and even if we give it the best we have it ends up not working out. But I know you're stronger than this. You're just having a moment of weakness. You'll get through this. I'll make sure of it." His mouth was close enough to yours that you could feel the air of his words and taste his breath. You kissed him again and he welcomed it. With his two large hands framing your face, he got comfortable and allowed you to melt against him. Without glancing away, he took the flowers from your lap and set them down on the table. "You're the sweetest girl I know and you're stronger than this," he whispered. "I love you." The honeyed words dripping from his lips elicited another choked sob from you but for different reasons. How was it that this one man could speak a few sentences and make you forget all about the trash pile you had found yourself in?  And it wasn't that he promised you the world or spewed fake praises. Everything that he told you made perfect sense. You almost hated how sensible Bill could be sometimes. He gathered you up and pulled you onto his lap so he could run his hands all up and down your back, shoulders and neck. "I said I love you," he reminded you, eyes still closed while his lips pressed against your cheek. "I love you, too," you giggled. "There's my sweet girl. It's good to hear you laugh. That's what keeps me going, you know that? Seeing you happy... Shit, that's my raison d'être." "Oh, stop," you playfully hit him. He grabbed your wrist, his eyes suddenly darkening. You knew that look. That was how he looked at you when dirty thoughts began swirling around in his head. "You know what else helps regulate hormones and emotions?" He asked you. You shook your head no, silently urging him to continue. "Sex." "Oh, really?" "Mm-hmm," he smirked. "Lots of it." Without a chance to reply, Bill flipped you over onto your back and kissed you again. His lips felt soft and wet and his hand began to wander down from your neck to your collarbone then further down to your chest. He scooped up a handful of your breast and gave it a gentle squeeze, tittering when you moaned against his mouth. Bill lifted your shirt and pressed feathery kisses to your tummy, inching himself down on the couch until he couldn't go much further. His hands, entwined with yours, let go just for the purpose of undoing the button of your jeans. He worked your pants down with a little help from you and when they were off, he sat back on his haunches and pulled off his own shirt while you did the same. He had you naked quickly and smiled devilishly while he took off his own pants. But before he entered you, he had to pepper the rest of your body with kisses and he never stopped looking up at you. Though you were certain the angle was unflattering, you could not rip your stare away from him. He had full command of you and your body. Spreading your legs, he bit his lip and smiled when he saw the enticing wetness between your legs. Dipping his head low, he gave you one long, slow lick and moaned against your clit until your spine lifted off the couch. "Oh, so sweet," Bill laughed softly. He gave himself a few strokes, made sure you were watching him touch himself and tapped the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times before pushing inside slowly and with the most salacious moan you had ever heard leave him. As soon as he was fully enveloped, his muscles turned to mush and he laid on top of you so he could kiss you and rock his hips into you a few times. "Feels so good, honey. God, I love this." You nodded your head and gave him a smile that made him smile right back at you. Circling your waist with his arms, he pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap. His expression was lax with pleasure and he guided your hips back and forth, around and around and up and down. "That's right, sweetheart. Fuck me good. Feels better already, doesn't it?" You clung to him tightly in hopes that he would take back the control. You needed his guidance. You wanted him to tell you what to do. So far, he was the only thing standing between you and complete mental destruction. But you knew he was solid. Bill wasn't going anywhere. He would be that barrier between yourself and your detrimental thoughts. He always was and all at once, you felt silly that you had thought yourself so beyond help just moments ago. Bill tossed you back on the couch, on your stomach and lifted your hips so he could push himself inside of you from behind. You could tell he was getting close because his motion became erratic and he kept muttering, "fuck... Fuck me, that's good. Oh, fuck. Oh, god." He pulled out just in time to coat your ass with cum which he was quick to mop up with his nice shirt. But he was far from done with you, as he indicated by turning you around and diving back down between your legs. "You gonna give me all that sweet cum?" He asked. "Yes," you whispered. "That's my good, sweet girl. I need it all, okay?" You giggled and turned pink. "Okay." "Promise me you'll cum real good all over my face?" "I promise." He kissed your thigh and smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart."

#bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard smut #fanfiction #bill skarsgård fluff #bill skarsgard fluff

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 32

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: Aiming for once a week updates. Might pick up speed, but won’t decrease. We have a masterlist and a tag list, FYI.

Warnings: swearing?

Abstract: And someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear...

----------------------------------------

Roger Taylor sat across from Jim Hutton.

Freddie Mercury sat across from Brian May.

You sat across from John Deacon.

Miami Beach headed the awkward dinner party from Hell. At least that’s how he thought of it. He had better things to do than babysit a table of grown men and one unassuming woman. It was as if he had fallen into the Twilight Zone, and he didn’t like it one bit. He had nothing against you, but he had everything against this group of men. You seemed pleasant, and, sure, you had punched Roger in the face, but who among them hadn’t wished to do just that under certain circumstances? Under numerous circumstances? Miami was certain every single one of them had at least day dreamed about it. These men, though, they worked, day in and out, he was certain, to ruin his life. If they weren’t destroying hotel rooms in exotic countries they were spoiling perfectly decent dinner parties, charging in guns ablaze to tarnish business dinners. They couldn’t do a single thing like normal people. Everything was exaggerated. Everything was vibrant. Everything was terrible. He missed, longed for the days before he had become their manager. It had been simpler times. Nicer times. This had been, by the large, the worst blow out Miami had witnessed among the band since the “I’m in Love with My Car” debacle. This was the most expensive dinner he had ever paid for and the food hadn’t even arrived yet. He was starving. Irritated. Pessimistic. The only saving grace here was he could at least bill them for his time. And boy, was he ever going to hike up the rate.

Roger was moving food across his plate, not really focusing on what he was doing. How was he supposed to eat food with no color? Nothing about it looked appetizing. It smelled good, he supposed. It looked like wet shapes. Lumps. Bumps. He thought he was going to vomit again. He lifted a waste bin by his chair, put it in front of his face, waited, and nothing came up. He placed the bin back down, and looked at his dinner. Jim had made them a couple of steaks and potatoes garnished with shallots and asparagus. Everything was seasoned to perfection and cooked like a professional had slaved over it. And despite that Roger couldn’t even enjoy it, his self torture ran too deep, seeped from every pore, and crashed around his mind like his favorite set of cymbals. He was quite certain he didn’t deserve this meal, lovingly prepared for him by the only person who had cared to chase after him, any more than he deserved Lydia.

He was a mess. A lumpy mess.

“Roger,” Jim said between bites, “Stop acting like a child.”

“I’m not.” He whined.

Jim stared at Roger, who was still pushing food around his plate in some hollow attempt to make it look eaten. “You are.”

Roger rolled his eyes, shoving up the sleeves of his purple bathrobe. The rest of his clothes, covered in pasta sauces, noodles, wine, tears, and his own vomit, had been thrown in the washer by Jim. He wouldn’t serve Roger dinner when he was, as Jim had put it, “smelling like an Italian wake.” Roger had washed his hair, scrubbed his body and cried in the shower for the second time in one day. He was falling apart. Had been. He actually felt somewhat better now. He wasn’t hysterical anymore, at least. That had to count for something?

He felt the bathrobe. Fluffy and safe, like a puppy’s hug. It was still grey to him. He frowned.

“Okay, so the whole point of this is for us to share a meal and for you to fess up. I’m holding you to doing at least one of those.” Jim dipped a piece of steak in an au jus, and accented his speech by pointing his fork at Roger.

Roger took a defiant bite, and stayed pointedly silent. Jim banged a fist on the table.

“Roger Taylor, you’re going to talk to me or I’ll throw you back to the wolves without so much as a whoopsie daisy.”

Miami should have felt like a wolf in his suit; however, having it splattered with pasta sauces and flecks of meat made it difficult for even him to take himself seriously, let alone the band. He was more a sheep acting the part of the wolf. Or a hamster. This wasn’t the power dynamic he was expecting. Roger going ballistic, Y/N swooping in for the punchline. None of it had set this meeting on to the right spinning edge. This top was all akimbo.  

“What exactly do you mean you want her to play on the record?” Miami asked nicely.

“We are going to need other musicians, or one exceptionally skilled musician to play a few horn sections; as far as I last knew, no one in the band can rock a trumpet.” Deacy said, taking a sip of his drink. His grey-green eyes shimmering with some hidden card up his sleeve.

“Roger is kind of a blowhard, though.” Brian said, trying to smile through the thick chaos and confusion. Everything about this meeting was just so precisely arranged: some huge fight and now everything and everyone had to find their footing and it wasn’t equal and it wasn’t fair. If Brian didn’t know better, he would have thought it had all been staged; he wouldn’t ever put something like that past Deacy. He was wily, that one.

Everyone laughed an uncomfortable laugh.

“Deacy,” You said, softly, “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to first, or even what I could play myself.”

“Fair point.” Deacy said. “Y/N, do you want to play on our next record.”

You looked at the men assembled around you.

Freddie gave you a wink and an encouraging nod. That nod said, you’d be a fool to say no.

Brian glared at Freddie, shrugging. He loudly leaned back and rolled his eyes, scoffing. It was as if his opinion didn’t matter at all.

Miami raised his hands as if to say, I have nothing to do with this decision.

“Well, yeah, I do.” You said. “Who wouldn’t?”

“Great. What instruments can you play, just as a formality?” Deacy continued sipping, ignoring Brian.

“Saxophone, piano, trumpet, viola, French horn, and some very limited flute--and I mean very limited it.” You said attempting to not blush.

“That’s quite the list, darling!” Freddie exclaimed.

“Music is my life.” You said simply.

“That’s all very sweet,” Brian said, “And don’t think I don’t like you, Y/N, in saying this, but you can’t just promise someone the chance to play on the record without consulting us all and without having them audition.”

“I’m sure she plays beautifully.” Freddie smiled at Brian.

“I have a say in this band just as much as the rest of you.” Brian said shortly.

“Of course you do.” Deacy said. “You started it, after all, right?”

“Yes.”

“Which means, what? you and Rog get seven votes a piece compared to Freddie and I getting one a each?”

“Okay, this isn’t productive.” Miami cut in. “You all get one vote each; you all know that. Stop this petty shit. Y/N, you’ll audition for us in two days? I’ll send a car for you.”

“Two days?” You asked.

“Yes--what do you have class or something?” “Technically, yes; I do.”

“We will do it in the evening then.” Miami said, closing the subject once and for all. “Now, I believe we have other more pressing matters to discuss concerning this record beyond the machinations of an aspiring musician.” “Yeah,” Brian said, “Mostly how we are evenly divided about the record. And no one is willing to compromise.”

“No one should have to compromise!” Deacy said. “You’re missing my point, yet again, entirely and intentionally.”

“I’m missing nothing.” Brian said.

“Oh because you never miss anything.” Deacy retorted.

“We could fight about something else, maybe? For a break? How about what to order for dessert or the length of my mustache?”

The men silently looked at Freddie. You held back a laugh.

“That fits you all to a Tee, gentlemen.” Miami said. “What? Don’t look surprised. You all never agree on anything. We don’t need to alert the media here. In fact, we’d need to alert them if you ever agreed on anything without some kind of a fight. Now that would be a first page story. Queen Agrees! Lord, we’d sell hundreds of papers.”

“It isn’t much of a story.” Roger said.

“Well, good thing I’m easily entertained.” Jim sighed. “Paint me a picture.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

“Yeah. Feels particularly cruel at this moment.”

“Well, you’d know about particularly cruel, wouldn’t you?”

“I spent the night with Lydia. At the party. I had met her the night before. At some nothing club playing nothing music. But she looked like everything. She was everything. The moment I saw her the entire place changed, and the way my heart beat shifted, and it hasn’t been the same sense. She was everything. From the second she started walking towards me to the moment she licked my hand.”

“She licked your hand?” Jim had a spoon of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth.

“She did. And I felt it shiver and zap through my entire body.”

Jim raised an eyebrow at Roger.

“You heard me. My entire body.” He continued. “I invited her to the party, wasn’t sure if she’d even come. But she did. And I’ve never seen anyone look the way she did. All curves and red satin. My personal Satan. Like she had been made for me and I for her. I sound like an idiot. I hate myself. What’s wrong with me?”

Jim laughed. “No. You sound like a person in love. You don’t sound like an idiot at all. You’re in love. You said it to me yourself; don’t shake your blond head at me, you wanker.”

“Sure.” Roger grimaced. “I couldn’t keep my eyes from her. Or my hands. God maybe they had been made to touch her body. I always thought they had been made to drum. I don’t know anymore. Funny isn’t it? That something on my body could have been made for her? Feeling her was like feeling myself; I knew her already, entirely, completely. Every crest and crown.”

“Don’t forget to eat.” Jim reminded him.

“You know how it is; I get going and can’t stop.” He wiped a tear from his eyes and resumed eating, slowly. “The thing is, I just don’t, I mean…”

“You don’t date monogamously?” Jim offered. “You’re a notorious cad? A bounder? A rascal! A cur? A blackguard.”

“Right, mate.” Roger responded. “Please stop. You’ve made your point.”

“I could go on. Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Rapscallion.”

“Stop.”

“Bastard.”

“Thank you. Going on.” Roger said, trying to redirect the train. “Nothing against it. Or those who do it. I know my limitations; I don’t trust myself to not stray. But with her. I thought for the first time that I could dedicate myself to her and be happy--content and joyous, and pleasured and pleased, and entertained and fascinated forever. Full stop. In a second, maybe two, I knew. I just knew. And everything felt right, secure, and safe.”

“And then you fucked it up?”

“Yes. Well, no. Not yet. You’re jumping ahead.”

“I’m jumping ahead?” Freddie simpered.

“Yes!” Brian said.

“I’m jumping ahead?!”

“Yeah!” Brain said heavily. “Roger isn’t even here.”

“You’re the one who said you could speak for him.” Deacy said.

“You want to make some rhythmic disco record and have our approval?” Brain asked. “You’re out of your head.”

“Yes. In short.” Deacy said. Freddie nodded beside him. “Oh, and I resent your tone whenever you say disco, for the record.”

“How about club music?” Freddie offered, trying to make peace.

“Whatever. Same difference just a horse of a different color.”

Deacy groaned. “Listen we’ve made several records and never all agreed on everything going on in it. Why start now?”

The men laughed.

“Look at it like this, darling.” Freddie offered. “This record is happening. You’ll have tracks. You can do your thing. We intend to do ours. Deacy and I have a united vision. And you can either work with us or against us. We’d rather have it go down easily and work like oil.”

“But we will take whatever we can get.” Deacy said. It sounded like a threat. A final line in the sand. “We’ve started some really compelling tunes, Bri.”

“It isn’t disco trash,” Freddie smiled, “as Roger likes to call it.”

Brain sighed loudly. “I don’t like this. I notice and appreciate Deacy having to compromise before. And I notice his talent has excelled in recent years. So, I’ll just allow it.”

“Allow it?” Deacy said, voice raising.

“Wrong choice of words. Would you prefer roll over and take it?” Brain held is hands up in peace. A light smile played across his face.

“All we are asking is the chance to try something we haven’t yet.” Deacy said, a pleading conciliatory note in his voice. “It’s what Queen has always been about. We explore. We originate.”

“We’re pioneers.” Freddie said. “But with better style.”

“Her style was impeccable. Her movements. Her grace. When we made love in my car—oh your car, now, mate.” Roger smirked at Jim.

“Wait—did you just say ‘made love’?” Jim shrieked incredulously. “Did Roger fucking Taylor just use the expression to make love?”

The men laughed.

“I might have.” Roger admitted.

“Make. Love.” Jim said. “Wow. Well, now I’ve bloody well right heard everything.”

“Okay, okay! come off it!” Roger laughed. This time wiping away tears of joy instead of sorrow. “I took her home and, and…” he paused, thinking. Remembering. “I took her home and everything changed again. It had been a handful of hours and she changed my life again. She changed everything. I was in too deep.”

It was that night again, last night, and Roger closed the door to Lydia’s bedroom. He pushed up against the door with his back, leaning backwards, slowly, seductively. He looked cool, effortless, slick. He stared at her through his sepia-colored glasses, and waited for her to make her move. And boy, did she ever.

----------------------

Tag List: @phantom-fangirl-stuff @triggeredpossum @obsessedwithrogertaylor @groupiie-love@partydulce@richiethotzierz@sophierobisonartfoundationblr@psychostarkid@teathymewithben@smittyjaws@just-ladyme@botinstqueen @mydogisthebest@little-welsh-wonder@maxjesty@deakysdiscos@yourealegendroger@marvellouspengwing@molethemollie@deakysgirl@arrowswithwifi@tardisgrump @mikey-sway

#john deacon x reader #john deacon #brian may #roger taylor #freddie mercury #jim hutton #joe mazzello #ben hardy #gwilym lee #rami malek #bohemian rhapsody #queen x reader

[c0njugaste-blog]

The 6 Abc’s Of Fitness: Tips for Beginners

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6 Abc Fitness Tips - Beginners Guide

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How Much Is Xperience Fitness

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Health-related Fitness such as boxing or martial arts

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#boxing #mma

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON NIGHTMARE’S MAIN RAP, LEAD DANCE JIA MAIALEN ACOSTA...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Medea CURRENT AGE: 22 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: Koala.T SECONDARY SKILL: N/A

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): Brujita; because of her heritage, Jia is popular among some Latin Americans. They declared her their little witch, or “nuestra brujita”. The name has caught on, so others now call her “little witch” INSPIRATION: Jia’s personal inspiration comes from her years of acting and her father’s obsession with gothic literature. He would have preferred for her to become a professor instead of an idol, but her family is still very supportive.  SPECIAL TALENTS:

Languages-Jia was born in America to a Puerto Rican/German father and Korean mother. She grew up surrounded by different languages. As a result, she speaks English, Korean, Spanish, and German. Her German is probably weakest, but she can still speak enough to entertain people on variety shows.

Monologues-Because of years of acting auditions, Jia has several monologues she can still recite off the top of her head. Macbeth is a popular request.

Tarot-Jia doesn’t personally believe in tarot readings, but it seemed like a good skill to learn once the group changed direction. She now knows how to do readings and carries a deck of cards as a prop.

NOTABLE FACTS:

Jia has been acting since she was six years old, though most of her experience was small scale commercials and school productions.

In December of 2017, she had a mediocre appearance on Hit the Stage. It could have been better, but it certainly could have gone worst. Mostly it was a combination of nerves and food poisoning. She has not touched oysters since.

Koala.T has been pushing Jia to continue acting. Her most recent experience was a lead role in Last Minute Romance.

Jia is incredibly intelligent. Her father is a professor so she grew up with a nose in a book.

She has a fascination with Japanese horror, particularly anime and manga. Her current favorite anime is Angels of Death.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Jia wants to grow the popularity of Nightmare. While their followers are fervent, there aren’t many. It would be nice to see Nightmare more widely accepted by the mainstream population, particularly because Jia actually believes in the concept.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

Someday,  Jia would like to be a soloist. It seems like the only opportunity for her to take some type of agency in her career and she is genuinely devoted to music, particularly to writing lyrics. However, the company thinks she would be better off continuing her acting career. Despite this, she is determined to prove to them that she can be a viable candidate for a soloist someday.

IDOL IMAGE

Sassy. Fiery. Extroverted. Sexy. Koala.T quickly realized Jia would never fit any of those molds, despite their expectations of what a Latina should act like. She was too quiet, too introverted, too uptight. She had spent most of her life sheltered, especially for a child actor. While this meant Koala.T never had to worry about her getting into trouble, it also meant they had to rethink who she would be in the group.  The most they could hope for was quirky, odd, maybe a little eccentric. They settled on restrained. After all, what was a nightmare without a bit of mystery? Everyone would dream of uncovering the “real” her and her other, bolder, group members could take the lead in interviews. She could speak every once in a while, make people work for her words. Koala.T never had to worry that she would take it too over the top and become unlikable. She had acted for years and certainly knew when to smile and when to hold back. In fact, it would make their vision for her as an actor all the more impressive. People would line up to see her quiet nature break down, to find a crack in her armor on screen. Since Nightmare’s debut,  that has been the role Jia played. She is cute, quiet, and shy, except when performing. She raps and dances with her entire soul, almost becoming a different person. Koala.T knows she wants to be a soloist someday, but they don’t see that in her future. Not with her image and not with her past as an actor. It is much easier for them to market her as such, to place her in television shows and web dramas. They see her as perfect for the small screen. Unfortunately, her personality has typecast her in roles  similar to her image, despite her range.

IDOL HISTORY

Everyone in Los Angeles is an actor. Jia was no exception. Her father, Gabriel Acosta, was Puerto Rican and German and damn proud of both. Her mother, Da-un, was Korean. Among Americans, she went by Daisy. Both might have never met had her father not broken his arm. Her mother was the nurse on call. Her three older sisters strived to be academics or doctors, but Jia knew that was not for her. She was a quiet child, almost worryingly so. Her mother began putting her in school stage productions hoping it would cure her shyness, despite the lack of love she had for the theater. Everyone was stunned to realize Jia was actually good in front of an audience. Despite her nerves, she excellent at memorizing lines, having always been a smart kid.

After a few school plays, her parents decided to explore the world of child acting, figuring it was a good way for her to earn money for college, because she was certainly going to go to one if it killed them. It was a tough market. Though Jia knew several languages, Asian roles were few and between, and no one would cast her as a Latina despite her proficiency in Spanish. She was never a stranger to racism, but those years helped her realize just how different she was. She didn’t fit in anywhere, not entirely.

When she was twelve, her grandfather on her mother’s side developed cancer. Her mother was the only one left to care for him, so the Acostas uprooted their children and moved to Korea. It was a culture shock for Jia, who had never set foot in its soil. Her Korean wasn’t bad per se, but it was rougher than her Spanish and certainly worse than her English. It was a difficult time for her. She decided to continue acting, mostly to make herself comfortable with speaking Korean among natives, but she did not have any jobs for a while. During that time, she discovered her love of writing.

Jia grew up around books. Her father never failed to bring classics home. She read Frankenstein at an age most kids were looking at Judy Bloom, but she never considered writing anything, not until she moved to Korea. She always had trouble making friends with her quiet personality, so writing was a way to escape her problems. At first it was about her day, then turned into practice for her Korean, until it shifted into creative pieces. However, she had to push that aside once her acting jobs started coming in again. Jia was filming a commercial when Koala.T scouted her. She was seventeen and figuring out what to do with her life, already becoming tired of the same acting roles over and over. They thought she had potential as an idol and invited her to audition. Her parents had mixed feelings about the situation. They wanted her to go to a university, for her to be a doctor or even a theater teacher, not a performer. She managed to convince them, mostly because it was a long shot. Her vocal and dancing experience was limited to school musicals, and there idol market was much more difficult to enter than the child acting market. To her surprise, she left the audition as a trainee.

Her parents gave her three years after she graduated high school to debut or else they were pulling the plug on the whole thing. It it was their compromise because while they were supportive of their daughter they were unwilling to have her throw away her life on something so impractical, something that had so little chance of working out. She trained every day and discovered a talent for rapping, which she honed. She found herself in a line up for a fairytale themed girl group until the company pulled the rug out from under them. Having always been obsessed with Japanese media, Jia had a much easier time adjusting to the shift into the pop rock occult. Jia always had a fascination with the macabre. Despite her meek personality, she loved horror movies and had the stomach for the goriest of films, having spent her share of time in the ER, waiting for her mother. She even suggested several stage names, before they decided on Medea, figuring the witch from the Greek myth fit the idea of the group well and would lend an edge to the sweet Jia.

While none of her other languages were useful in an Asian market, they made her a favorite in some international markets, particularly Latin America. For the first time in her life, being a foreigner was an asset, especially when domestically Nightmare was practically a flop. It was disappointing, but Jia remains hopeful. It has after all only been a little over a year. There is still plenty of time to turn things around and she is determined to make it work. However, some contention does exist between her and Koala.T. They want nothing more than for her to continue acting, having already seen her capabilities on the small screen. However, Jia would rather explore being a lyricist, maybe even a soloist. She has had people tell her what kind of material to produce her entire life. While it wouldn’t be perfect, being a soloist would allow her to finally shine on her own. Of course, it is still early in her career. She has to exercise a bit of patience as she can’t rock the boat too much, not when they are just getting started and certainly not before she has enough fans to back her up. Thankfully, Jia is good at playing the long game.

#id.bio #id.koalat #id.nightmare #id.honeypot #id.tia cuevas

[kindabraveandlittlestupid]

A love/hate review of the Star Wars The Last Jedi and also the disappointment in corporate Disney trimming the extended universe away from the Star Wars. Just to be clear, I don’t stand with those toxic males of the web who attacked Daisy Ridley, Kelly Marie Tran and the rest of the cast/crew. The movie is a work of fiction and I above all other emotions value decency as the foundation of my views and beliefs (or at least I try to make that my foundation). I am gonna share my opinions/views as always, I am just a guy on the web with little power what Hollywood makes. If you agree with me, that's great! And if you don't, that's fine too.

Goodbye J. J. (Hate) My first complaint is the change of direction from the first movie. J.J. Abrams had managed to establish some worthwhile intrigue with the characters/plot like Rey's background, the hunt for Luke, and Finn's moral crisis. Seemingly the new director/writer decided to take a step away from these established storylines/characters to explore his own take on these things. Luke is no longer interested in the good fight and embraces apathy, Rey comes from nowhere/no one, and Finns short coma results in him having the same cowardly acts from the first movie instead of giving him personal growth after his heroics at Starkiller Base. It's like whiplash where you have had expectations of these story/plot threads being followed only to have them be ignored or to become completely unremarkable in the next film.

Rose & Paige Tico (Love) I admit there is a lot of things about this movie that rubbed me the wrong way but the addition of Rose was not one of them. The Star Wars has always suffered from a lack of female characters in the movies and they seem to be making some strides to balance out the gender scales. She provided a new character to focus on away from the Roguish Pilot and the Ex-Stormtrooper giving us the optimistic/loveable Mechanic that we could invest out feelings in (which reminded me of another sci-fi female mechanic who I wish I saw more on screen).

What upset me about Rose was the fact I wanted to know MORE about her backstory and her relationship with her sister, Paige. The geek in me would love to have some webisodes dedicated to their relationship (as well as other characters) and how they got into the rebellion in the first place but alas the story relegated her to a secondary plot line on a gambling planet that showed off rich people being assholes which was ultimately pointless to the storyline and failed to further the plot.

I look forward to seeing how they develop her in the next movie, considering so few people are left in the Rebellion... I mean Resistance. On a parting thought, I am still not sure about the Fin/Rose kiss they tried to apply to the movie... felt a little forced if you ask me.

Marvel Humor (Hate) There is a noticeable change to the formula of the Star Wars movies and we know this new formula very well. Disney has been enjoying the tidal wave of cash coming in from the MCU with movies like the Avengers, Ironman, Thor, Guardians of the Galaxy and so on which brings in billions (with a B) into the Magical Kingdom. Naturally, they think they struck gold (which they have) but now they are taking that Marvel Universe humor and projecting it into other franchises they own to try and milk money out of them.

This was on full display in Star Wars with the ‘prank call’ Poe used while talking to Hux. This universe enjoyed some banter in its previous movies but this very scene seemed foreign in the Star Wars Universe. As if Hux wouldn't have a laser cannon blow Poe right up. The movie continued to layer more and more MCU humor into the movie with Chewie eating the Porg in front of other horrified Porgs, Luke throwing a lightsaber nonchalantly over his shoulder, and tickling Rey with a piece of grass.

Granted there wasn't AS MUCH humor as you might see in Guardians or Ironman but they are starting to inject it into the films and in my opinion, it undermines the quality of the movie and the universe quite a bit by trying to make it something its not. This is why I enjoyed the grittier Rogue One so much that applied some humor with the android K-2SO but didn't allow shtick with other characters (which was good).

The point is their Gold Equation of humor connecting to the audience shouldn't be transplanted so easily from one franchise to the next, it robs the authenticity of Star Wars and what we know and love.

Vice Admiral Holdo (Love/Hate) Such a disappointing end to what could have been a good transfer of authority to a new female lead. I know we all mourn the death of Carrie Fisher and I appreciate the Luke and Lei scene at the end but the introduction of Holdo only to have her kamikaze the cruiser left me wondering why even make her a part of the movie? I mean really... her fight with Poe and his tactics could have carried into the next film, having her fill in as the new leader of the rebellion would have created a new strong female character and the very ‘heroic’ death she was given could have been done by Leia or Admiral Fucking Ackbar which would have been 10 times better then a random character added only to be killed off.

I blame this (like most things) on Director Rian Johnson who thought he was being clever but making the audience think "Oh she must be taking over for Leia!" only to kill her off as a sort of low-level plot twist. Frankly, it came off as less of a twist and instead of a pointless removal for an otherwise interesting character who could have moved onto the next movie.

Rey and Kylo Tag Team (Love) This might be hands down one of the best lightsaber fight scenes in the Star Wars Universe. If I am going to give the director any credit, it will be for giving us this gem of a scene where Kylo turns on his Master Snoke. This is the sort of action I crave to see in the Star Wars movies and making me wish (badly) that there was a Knight of the Old Republic film in the making. Hell, I just watched it again on Youtube just to remind myself how awesome it was.

Rey and Kylo Shipping (Hate) On the other hand with the whole force connection thing between Kylo and Rey, the idea of them being attracted to each other felt like a betrayal to well... Rey’s logic and mortality. Let us assume she has some attraction to Kylo would she have forgotten everything he did in the previous movie? Destruction of two villages on Jaku, slashing her new best friend in the back (Finn), stabbing her new father figure (Han) thru the chest, killing Lukes students, attempting to torture her for information and lastly being part of the First Order after shooting off Starkiller Base that destroyed 4 inhabited planets with billions (with a B) of lives on said planets? I know Rey might have temptations to the dark side but for fuck sake is she turned on by a literal genocidal maniac?

Rian Johnson & Disney Scaling Back the SWU (Hate) I realized this review is leaning more towards the Dark Side then the Light but I agree with some of the fanboys sentiment on the destruction of the Star Wars Universe. I am not sure if Rian is to blame 100%, I know Disney decided to cut all books, comics, and video games as NOT canon in the SWU but he seemed to have his hand in it with each rebel ship blown to pieces while escaping the Imperial... I mean First Order fleet.

This was hard for me to some degree, I played games like Knight of the Old Republic, The Force Unleashed, Jedi Academy, Shadows of the Empire, Republic Commando and read dozens of comics and books over the years. An yet because the franchise switched hands from Lucas to Disney and Disney had no hand in building all the extended universe they simply cut it away and said: “Nope! None of that counts”. I can understand why some people might get upset having invested time into exploring the Star Wars Universe only to have to evaporate before them like Thanos’s Infinity snap.

Rian drove this point home in the movie burning the Jedi texts (which contents weren't really important but symbolic of the Jedi Philosophy no longer being part of Star Wars), decimating the Rebels (Resistance) to the point the remainder all fit onto the Millennium Falcon, and even killed off or sent away new additions that could have helped expand the new trilogy into something great. Porg Plushies (Hate) *Sigh* I don’t like adding another hate to the list but few things in this movie made me personally feel good about it. We killed off interesting characters (Phasma and Holdo), had pointless side plots on Canto Bight (the Gambling Planet) and the scaling back of a great extended universe. An then we had the addition of Porgs...

I don’t dislike the concept of the Porgs, in fact, these puffin/otter hybrids are kinda cute. I dislike them as they seemed to have the pretty clear purpose of moving merchandise. Now, this isn't new for Star Wars if you know cinema you know that Lucas was highly protective of his own toy sales which is how Spaceballs was able to parody Star Wars so much as long as they didn't sell their own toys. They use the word Toyetic for this very thing of making a character or thing so they can move product off the shelves. Its why the Batmobile had so many changes with each passing movie in the 90′s.

The Porgs are no different, they maxed out the BB8 toy sales from the last movie and introduced an animal to sell plushies, slippers, bobbleheads and backpacks for kids and geeky adults. I am honestly not a fan of this sort of capitalism being pushed off thru movies but there it is and I am sure when episode 9 comes out there will be something new for them to sell us.

DJ (Love) Despite there being literally no good reason for DJ (Benicio del Toro) being in this movie with the pointless side quest on Canto Bight. This character might have some potential for future movies. We certainly explored the good smuggler scoundrel with Han Solo and Lando Calrissian but never explored the bad smuggler element quite yet (save some in the Solo movie).

I particularly liked the whole part with him explaining the manufacturing of weapons for both the First Order and the Resistance. It was perhaps one of the most insightful moments in the movie that could have easily reflected back on our own failings in regards to war. Just like how Canto Bight reminds us that the scum of the Galaxy don't just reside at the bottom but also the top. I hope to see him again but I am not sure how they will explore him in the next plot.

Super Leia (Hate) Lord knows when Leia became adept in the force that she could survive in outer space let alone fly around like Superman! This scene seemed crafted for the trailers making everyone believe this would be the way to double down on the ‘Evil Kylo’ angle and writing Carrie Fisher out of the Star Wars Universe but instead she survives as another pointless twist just like Holdo being the one to ram the ship into The Supremecy or DJ betraying Finn and Rose for money.

Just reminder if you're in space; your air escapes your body (including your butt), the saliva in your mouth begins to boil, air is cut off to your brain, and all the blood vessels on the surface of your body would break. I am glad she didn't die and had another scene with Luke but due to poor writing and trailer bait, they decided to keep this horrible scene in the movie.

Shallowing (Hate) Beyond the new additions (Holdo, DJ, Rose), the reoccurring characters become shallow in their roles. As I said, Luke now doesn't give a shit despite having 30+ years to mature, Hux is reduced to a punching bag for Kylo, Kylo is still emo as ever, Rey is becoming a Mary Sue (or perhaps not with her floundering romance with a mass murder), Finn had the same "coward, not coward" story arc from the first film, Phasma disappointingly is defeated by FN 2178 a second time, Poe is now a one dimensional reckless flyboy, and Leia is secretly Kryptonian. Point is there is no meaningful personal conflict with the characters, not enough time spent with the new ones, and a few of their portrayal betray canon for either a laugh or just because they simply didn't care.

Conclusion The point is, I liked the Kylo/Rey lightsaber battle against the Bodyguards, I enjoyed the battles in space, the silent ramming of the Raddus at light speed into The Supremacy and I still loved the new character (Rose). Most of the problems in this film start not from the characters but from Disney scaling back the universe and the new Director who changed the narrative. It bothers me just a little that everyone is celebrating the film despite these major flaws and aren't more pissed off those decades of content has just been expelled from the Star Wars Universe in exchange for the new “Disney Star Wars Universe" we will be forced to live with. About the only thing that is safe is Chewie and thats because the Wookie doesnt age like actors do. Thanks for the read.

Regards Michael California

#Star Wars #The Last Jedi #MovieReview

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: REWIND REVIEW: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

(Image: hollywoodreporter.com)

For an occasional new segment, Every Movie Has a Lesson will cover upcoming home media releases combining an “overdue” or “rewind” film review, complete with life lessons, and an unboxed look at special features.

STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER

Big as a billboard in some places and as small as a mobile ad in others, the marketing imagery of Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker touts the tagline “The Saga Will End.” There’s something to be said for finality, especially with a 42-year-old franchise as venerated and cherished as this one. The virtues of remembrance, culmination, gratification, and other such lofty notions loom so much larger when an entity is billed to be the last of something important. The movie in disc form hits store shelves everywhere today.

LESSON #1: THE DEFINITION OF “FINALITY” — Diving deeper beyond the basic “something that is final” meaning, the dictionary of this galaxy describes “finality” as “conclusiveness,” “decisiveness,” or “an ultimate act, utterance, or belief.” J.J. Abrams’ massive space opera follows his own The Force Awakens and Rian Johnson’s The Last Jedi to aim so very badly for those traits. In many peaks of scope and emotion, his movie achieves such finality. In others, overindulgence and disarray put question marks on the value or vindication of all this promised fulfillment.

Going back to the tagline, the key word out of that poster’s sentence becomes “will.” As grand of a finale as The Rise of Skywalker builds itself to be, the likelihood of its stewarding studio turning off this cash cow is zip, zilch, and zero. This saga had an ending already in 1983 and another in 2005. Those had legitimate finality. Time will tell if this one, and its willy-nilly trajectories, will resonate strong enough or long enough to be of honored and revered significance.

ANTICIPATORY SET AND PRIOR KNOWLEDGE:

.Announcing his presence to the galaxy (and to us immediately in the yellow title scroll), a resurrected Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) has elevated the First Order into the Final Order with his Sith influence and the manufactured might of a colossal new fleet of Star Destroyers. His orders to his acolyte, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), are simply to “kill the girl.” That embattled female target remains Rey (Daisy Ridley), who has spent the undetermined amount of time since the Battle of Crait on the sidelines away from Resistance efforts to continue her Jedi training under the tutelage of General Leia Organa (the late Carrie Fisher).

LESSON #2: CONFRONTING FEARS— As she continues to grow in immeasurable power and skill, Rey endures visions abound of possible future fates that hinge on an eventual rubber match with the former Ben Solo. Matching a quintessential Star Wars motif, Rey has become the next emerging hero obligated to stare down the opposition with a will strengthened by summoned bravery. With “never be afraid of who you are” encouragement, Rey’s fears are hefty emotional obstacles made thoroughly compelling by Daisy Ridley’s lead performance, her best in the series. She may not be given the best scripted material (more on that later), but the actress squeezes every drop of rooting vulnerability out of this crucial plight.

Meanwhile, Rey’s supportive comrades and Resistance operatives, including Poe (Oscar Isaac), Finn (John Boyega), and Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo), help her stay a step ahead of Kylo Ren and his masked squad of weaponized knights. Flanked by their handy droids, the tight crew zealously join Rey’s pursuit of items and information deemed vital for the fledgling revolutionaries being able to bring the fight to Palpatine instead of awaiting overwhelming decimation. The invisible ticking clock urgency to blow enemies away and prevent “all for nothing” disappointment sets the plot off on numerous (as in too many) busy-bodied and lightspeed races and chases with weakly-presented MacGuffins in the crosshairs.

LESSON #3: THE VALUE OF PHYSICAL AND SPIRITUAL SUPPORT— Long has Star Wars been about populating a heightened unity in support of influential individuals. Call it amassing an army or the intimate recruitment of trusted friends. For Rey, her verbalized chant is the powerful wish of “be with me.” It is answered with “we have each other.” Whomever stands behind the lead antagonist or comes to the aid of the lead protagonist does so with fervent dedication and multiplying motivation. True to this now ancient battle of dark versus light, not all assistance entering the fray comes in corporeal form.

MY TAKE:

J.J. Abrams has always been more than capable at delivering sheer adventure for the silver screen. His urge for kinetic energy is answered by the polished production teams. Borrowed from good buddy Steven Spielberg, two-time Oscar-winning production designer Rick Carter teamed with VFX concept artist Kevin Jenkins to create otherworldly arenas of flash and flair. J.J.’s trusty cinematographer Dan Mindel (five previous collaborations between them) captured the accelerated action set to every possible hymn, horn, and hurrah from retiring composer legend John Williams. Merging four decades of cues and themes with impeccable placement and push, Williams earned that 52nd career Oscar nomination. Flying through this fantastical world will always remain a rousing treat. The wonderment and magic is there.

That said, no amount of razzle-dazzle filling eyes and ears can cover up the glaring examples of questionable creativity and incomplete development enacted by Abrams and lead screenwriter Chris Terrio. Even in a third film meant to wrap up storylines, The Rise of Skywalker compels itself to introduce even more tangents and swerves. It has characters that answer questions with more questions and moments ringing with vague parables rather than stamping cemented mythology. The arcs for Ridley and Driver fare the best, but the periphery is scattered with superfluous glaze. The isolation elements of The Last Jedi slowed matters down to create tangible suspense. This overpacked trilogy capper favors sprinting set pieces instead. Moving at a rush does not automatically or always create one in return, magic be damned.

To explain more crosses into spoiler territory, but there are downright mistakes here that expose the distance between forming merely a sense of finality, albeit a forcibly telegraphed one, and garnering a true, earned, and fitting consummation. Gauge all of this ambition straight toward the many synonyms of “finality.” Measure this film for “decisiveness,” “totality,” “resolution,” and even “integrity.” You may find its force more thin than thick.

3 STARS

EXTRA CREDIT: 

(Image courtesy of Disney)

For the first time in quite a while (re: see every Marvel disc release in ten years), Disney has finally put out a stellar disc release worthy of full purchase ahead of merely a digital download of the feature itself. All it took was a legitimate and immersive behind-the-scenes documentary that actually showed the full filmmaking process. Little seven to fifteen minute featurettes can’t do that, no matter how many of them you pretend to pack on a second disc, not when half of them feel like sales pitches instead of documentation. 

The Rancor-sized beast feature in question is the feature-length The Skywalker Legacy documentary.  Running a rich 126 minutes, the documentary follows the film’s production process from pillar to post. The access and observational intimacy into the process is phenomenal. Best all, they merge little flashbacks to the making-of footage of the original trilogy, making that “legacy” in the title the perfect term.

Those callbacks are some of the best moments to savor in the documentary because they each pile on a full circle of reflection and completion. For example, to see and hear Anthony Daniels compare walking onto the Tunisian heat with uncertainty in 1976 to stepping off the set in the same costume for the last time over 40 years later as a legend is beyond a treat. It’s a moment of pure satisfaction. Moments and threads like that are echoed and repeated for Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, and the memory of Carrie Fisher, especially how this production had to remember here while finding a way to go on without her.

Probably the best legacy moment captured in The Skywalker Legacy is when director J.J. Abrams brought composer John Williams on the set to film a first-time cameo. After Williams finishes shooting his bit, J.J. has the octogenarian look around the “junk” around his character’s workshop table. Each tarnished prop in view was purposely constructed to represent all 51 of Williams’ Oscar-nominated scores. That’s an incredible display of easter eggs that will drop your jaw and just a taste of the complete devotion and keen respect J.J. Abrams operates with the entire shoot.

The figure to watch (and being watched) the most is Abrams. His insistence, no matter the time, resources, and expense, to shoot with as many physical layers of creation and authenticity as possible is extremely commendable. From black bean quicksand and an alien festival to the wild energy of scene-stealing stunt coordindator Eunice Huthart, the massive volume of sets, costumes, vehicle rigs, and puppetry is off the charts.  The armies of people who train and put their heart, soul, and sweat into work that may only be seen mere seconds or minutes on-screen is dizzying. All the while, his skillful focus and constant smile make the pressures and expectations and returns look invisible.

Outside of the feature-length centerpiece, there are few more samples of blockbuster dessert. They come in the form of five smaller featurettes.  Even these still beat the Disney/Marvel entries of talking schills and put their focus on the stories behind the movie. 

One of the best of them is “Aliens on the Desert.” It’s a quick six minutes, but it outlines all of the set-up work in Jordan, where the visiting humans are the foreigners to the rugged vistas, that happens even before the circus-level main unit arrives. The scale of teamwork and practicality from the gear-loaded teams is something not normally shown for behind-the-scenes material that more often loves their headliners. The 14-minute “Pasaana Pursuit” feature is similar in its background focus.

If artistry gets you awestruck, you will enjoy the “Cast of Creatures” featurette. Like their shining moments in The Skywalker Legacy, the merger of makeup, engineering design, and puppetry have long made the fictional living things in Star Wars more tangible than any CGI power. This short is a tribute to the folks underneath the heavy gyros, foam, and rubber shells. The new droid D-O also gets a quick five-minute-and-change video on its character genesis of the more mechanical nature.

The final featurette is “Warwick & Son” and it’s the smile-inducing parting glance to the special features and nine-film saga. This snippet chronicles actor Warwick Davis returning to the Ewok role of Wicket and the chance to bring his aspiring actor son Harrison in to play his Ewok kin. Like the legacy circles earlier, to hear and see Warwick’s journey and sage maturity being celebrated is delightful. This caps a truly fantastic disc of special features.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#867)

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           Blurred  -  A piece of speculative fiction(Artifact for Theory) 

Unless we wake up to the damage that the gadget-filled, pharmaceutically-enhanced 21st century is doing to our brains, we could be sleepwalking towards a future in which neuro-chip technology blurs the line between living and non-living machines, and between our bodies and the outside world.

Susan Greenburg

2018A.D.

Under the dark waters there is silence. A fish or sometimes a large shadow-like creature drifts by. A few centimetres under the surface of the water, bits of plastic, catch the rays of a fading sun and glows with colour, shades of blue and green. This is the edge of the ‘floating’ island. Towards the centre, the mass heaves as if inhabited by multi-hued living things. A scent of rotten fish emanates from it. Any creature within it is doomed. Small fish even a short distance away turn belly up fast, a last twitch,  and they begin the natural progression of flesh decomposing.

Chemicals drift out of the floating mass. Unseen and deadly, they give no warning. Coloured flip-flops, transparent water bottles, pieces of wood, corrugated metal sheets, all the debris of mankind float with the mass. They converge on five masses spread across the oceans.  

2150 A.D.

In the distance  jagged cliffs run along the seashore. The land is covered with brown rush-like grasses, the tips grey and torn.  For miles around, the landscape is the same, dry and sparse. The sky is empty. No clouds. In the distance, small pockets of vegetation line the crevices of mountains. Green tips of trees peer out, sometimes a flash of orange where a fruit catches the light but no one notices. No human beings are around and animals, if present, hide in cool burrows underground.  

Two hundred kilometres away a translucent dome sits on a large expanse of earth. It is covered with hexagonal plates of toughened glass.  No better material has been found to replace glass. No doors are seen, no escape route. It seems that the inhabitants there or whoever live there, has turned their back on the earth.

Ba 631 stirs. No dream-catchers for her. No permanent chips in her brain. Her sleep patterns were of no use to anyone. Her mind had been wiped and refreshed many times after they took her away. It was fresh as a daisy they had told her, one image they couldn’t erase, and they left it alone, a  remnant  of  the quirky imagination of a young girl. She looks at small screen above her head. 5.30 am. The sleep period has been further reduced in the last month but she doesn’t mind. Recently she had begun to have dreams again after twenty years.

The mattress she is lying on begins a gentle massage. Time to tap into the library of Remembrance. Fifteen minutes of memory, uncensored. Time to travel back in time, visit a world of sound and images. She relaxes but doesn’t take the VR specs. She prefers to watch from the outside as she is not sure how much data it collects. But it is good this way too. It is not difficult. Always waiting. The blue skies,  the big fat clouds. She looks lower. The sun scintillating across the blue water. To the left, a pod of dolphins frolicking in the cool waters. She pauses, looking at them for a moment, taking in the curve of their bodies, the glistening skin of their bodies and then scanned the water for what she has been looking for. A short distance away from the group, a mother dolphin is swimming slowly with a baby at her dorsal fin. The mother swoops suddenly up in the air and after a moment the baby tries and makes a perfect arc.

 These are the images she is allowed, the collective knowledge that belongs to all humanity, machines and the in-betweens. All pixels washed and cleaned. Pixels that catch the light, show the animals in the best light, the water blue and clean. She waits for a moment and then goes deeper in her mind. A memory pushes forward and she lets out a hiss of air. She tries to see more each time but it seems that she sees through a fixed peephole, only that and no more. A girl with a dog walk along a path on the cliffs until they come to a cove. Dolphins are waiting, swimming lazily in the water. She stops and the dog squats besides her. She reaches into her pocket and breaks off hunks of bread and throws them in the water. The dolphins swoop at the bread and devour them. Then they raise their head and smile at her. So intent she is on the animals, that she doesn’t hear the sound of the helicopters in the distance. Then it’s too late. She looks up and sees a woman on the verandah of the house nearby, gesticulating wildly, her mouth open in a scream. It was the only day of her life she would remember, the moments of the dolphins smiling and a woman screaming, whose face she tries and tries but cannot not remember.

She is careful with this memory. She lets it sink back deep beneath the layers, hidden well from the collectors. She doesn’t know how she does it but it feels natural. She turns her mind to the pod of dolphins in the sea, letting the images flood her mind, wiping any traces, preparing herself for the day ahead, for the time she and her mind belongs to the collective.

A light flashes. She gets up and goes to the bathroom pod. She catches a glimpse of sturdy square buttocks before a towel is wrapped around the pink body.

Hemmel. He is always late. He stumbles past her without seeing her. She doesn’t mind. He probably was reprimanded. The pod is quite disciplined in that way. It hates being behind in its schedule.

She waits a moment until the pod is clean and disinfected but when she gets in, she imagines that she could smell a whiff of Hemmel’s soap. Lemongrass and a synthetic chemical she can’t identify, a musky smell some of her clients had used in the job before this one.

She opens her mouth and a brush appear and delve between her teeth,  brushes her gums and tongue and sprays gel. She gargles and spits out.

Here she can think. Sensors check her teeth, gums and even the elasticity of her skin but her mind left untouched. She searches for the image .The mother  dolphin is lying and the water and suddenly the baby jumps three times in the air, one after the other. Ripples spreads in all directions, intersect and  create new patterns.  The baby dolphin swims back to his mother and lies in the water near her back fin.

The brushes have finished their job of brushing rotating, brushing, scraping and squirting gel in her mouth. It finishes off with minty spray and more brushing. She dutifully spits and another liquid is sprayed into her mouth. All in a matter of seconds. Her teeth feel clean and dry. There is a pause before her bath as the pod checks her requirements. Water is too precious to be used for bathing so cleaning rituals have been automated. She doesn’t mind. A few extra minutes when her thoughts are not mined, categorised and recycled.

A cool jet of heavy air strikes her body from all sides. She spreads her arms and legs. More aerosol leaden with cleaning agents, mild disinfectants strike bar body followed by a jet of air, labelled forest fern with wild daisies. It was the only scent that she remembers of that summer day on the cliff long ago. She searches for a particular smell she can’t describe but it is always elusive, always tantalising out of reach. Glitches in the algorithm. Not all thoughts can be read clearly. Most things are standardised. Her hair undergoes the same treatment and then she is wrapped in a fluffy synthetic towel . She steps out the cubicle and goes back in her cubicle.

Her body scanned and measured. She will ovulate in five days. It’s her turn to be harvested. A short procedure for which she gets bonus points. She has a few more years until even this function of hers will stop working but she is stubborn. She wants children.  She wonders if there are young children looking like her, never once questioning where they came from. A new breed of trans human without parents, a combination of best fitted features so they exhibit  a wide variety of the skill sets needed.

She had this peculiar desire even since she was young. That she needed to have children, even if she would never see them. Never know what they looked like who their fathers were and what they were doing, whether they were happy or not, how human they were. But it was a need pushing her on and on through out the years. Sometimes she wondered if the algorithm made her do that, whether it was that erasing and remaking of her mind that drove her but this felt more primal, as if having eggs, getting them fertilised and creating children was a way of making herself visible, of leaving her mark on the world.

She clears her mind. Make a blank sheet. It was one of the first things she learned. Vague shapes hover over her. The stripping and cleansing of her mind had not fully done and they shadowy figures remained. It was something she never mentioned and the machines looking into her mind dismissed it as a glitch, a result of her being with humans at an early age, not undergoing cleansing mind process until she was twelve. She was an irregularity, saved when her parents were condemned because they believed in free thought. But she was saved mainly because they thought her beauty was rare and could be made use of.    

She waits, a blinding flash in her head, Software updates. Glitches fixed. As always the latest news , breakthroughs and progress in all areas. The outer environment is never mentioned but  the space mission almost at the end of the milky way in search for a habitable planet is the main topic of the morning. A planet has been detected that might a mirror image of earth. Water is detected. Hydrogen and oxygen that is. Another twenty years to reach it. Nanoparticle delivery of cancer medication became the standard norm. It was only a matter of time that cancer would be eliminated. Life would be cheaper. Batch processing and production entered a new stage with neural networks made from biological materials. Machines will began to think more organically, intuitively.

Yet they haven’t solved the problem of dying. It seems that even most healthy humans once they have past the age of ninety to one hundred and ten, they passed away in their sleep. There are a few of them who are passed one hundred and twenty years but they are mostly relics, living in research centres, their body scanned and examined to reveal hidden secrets.  

Everything is recycled. Back to the back elements carbon, hydrogen, …used in nanotechnology to create new products. No one objected. It was a more efficient way of living.  

In the early 21st century, 8 million metric tons of plastics enters the oceans from the land each year. There are 8 billion tons of plastics in the world.

[platonicfox]

timbledum fEarful 156 adventure (New Zealand)

Useful link: a metric dimensions conversion spreadsheet with dynamic thickness.

Full gallery here.

If you are interested in the budget, this thing cost me NZD$1,100. You can find a breakdown here.

I got the plywood supplier to cut the sheet into two 1200x1200mm squares for transport home. My cut plan based on this is here (or here for the svg version.)

My aspirational post on fEarfuls written around ~6 years ago is here – good to see that I finally followed through!

Background

This is a low tool build with some substitutions due to living in middle earth.

So I have been wanting to build a fEarful cab for quite some time now. However, the timing has never been right… until now!

Initially I was simply too poor to afford to build one as a student/graduate accountant, and I had a secondhand Sunn 410 that I was using in my punk and alt-rock bands (consecutive not simultaneous) so the demand wasn't urgent. I then temporarily stopped playing the bass to focus on my professional accounting exams for about two years.

I have been back playing bass sans-rig for maybe the last two years but have been getting sick of playing on borrowed gear and through PAs. I am also now getting a decent salary, and am pre-kids (just!).

I had not really planned the whole build at the beginning, as there were a lot of problems to solve and a lot of things to learn! Pretty overwhelming! So I just took the build one step at a time. I am pretty green with this kinda stuff, so this was all very exciting!

Step 1 – Buy the plywood

This is a very confusing part of the process, as the world of plywood is so varied and wide! Unfortunately we cannot get Baltic Birch here (the standard it seems), so it seems that the next best thing is some sort of marine grade plywood, such as hoop pine.

After ringing some places and having no real luck, I decided to go to Plyman in Henderson and just have a look around. Prior to leaving, I carefully calcuated that I would be able to fit a sheet of 2400x1200mm in the Nissan Wingroad if I got them to cut it in half (two squares), and tested this with a cheap scrap piece I had lying around – the end of the scrap was still at factory dimensions.

I got to the place and they had a super friendly guy at the counter – much recommended. I mentioned marine grade and Baltic Birch to him. He didn't know anything about Baltic Birch so he steared me to the Euro Birch which looked great! I also looked at the marine Gaboon stuff, but it had a pinky colour that I didn't really like.

So I went with the Euro Birch for about $115 all up, and the guy cut it in half for me for free, and we went to get it into the back of the wagon. It was a friggen mission! We ended up getting it diagonal and just pushing (hard) into the boot! They finally slid in one after the other.

It was even harder getting them out on the other side. My flatmate and I spend a good ten minutes figuring out how to get them out. We ended up having to push hard against the framing of the boot to get the plywood over the lip, and then squeezing the plywood through the plastic framing – we left permanent lines as reminder of the plywood for all time.

It turns out the plywood was actually 2440X1220 – the 2 extra cm squeezing through the boot was all the difference! Gahhhh!

Also turns out that I realised when we got it home that the outer birch vaneer is super thin – not like Baltic Birch at all! The main advantage of BB is apparently that all the plys are equal fitness, which gives it a lot of structural integrity and makes it easy to work with (you don't have to worry about sanding through the veneer).Pretty disappointed about that, but we'll see how we go!

I also hit up Bunnings on the way home and grabbed some misc supplies, including the Sika Supa Grip glue substitute recommended [here](Sika Supa Grip 30min Adhesive per http://greenboy.us/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=1106&p=42527#p42527).

Step 2 – Cut the plywood

On the way out from Plyman, I grabbed a long thin offcut which I thought I could use for making a straight-cut jig for the circular saw. I mounted this onto a shorter sheet of crappy plywood that I had left over (trying out the Supa Grip glue – worked great!), and made a cut with the circular saw leaving a straight edge that I could rely on for making all of my cuts accurately.

More or less – it turns out there was a 1-2 mm bow in the "straight-edge" over the metre or two of length. This did mean that I later had to do some sanding to fit. To do this, I glued some ~40 grit sandpaper to a ~300mm long piece of plywood as a makeshift plane, which took some elbow grease but worked fairly well

Cutting the plywood was nerve-racking for me, as I had no experience with this kind of thing, and I was paranoid in ruining the investment in the plywood I had purchased. I used painter's tape for most cuts to ensure a clean cut. I also bought a higher tooth blade which seemed to work quite well. I probably veered on too long for most cuts, which resulted in more sanding down the line. There also ended up being a bit of bow in the old painting (thanks wife) worktable that I was using – this made it tricky to get a clean cut and required a bit of downward force throughout the cuts.

I did most of the big cuts during a solid Saturday afternoon of cutting, and finished off the rest on another day. The bracing (although fiddly), wasn't as bad as expected, as I essentially cut a bunch of planks with uniform width, then cut to length with a hand-saw – I found it more accurate this way. There was, again, sanding down the line to get these all to fit correctly.

Laying out (ruler and pencil) was a lot more time consuming than I expected, partly as I was paranoid! I measured everything multiple times, but even then it took me a while to get used to which side of the line to cut, how to get the lines square, etc. Not easy! I have definitely learnt the value in good quality layout tools, and this was the first project that I have used a square (shocking I know). I was pretty happy with my make-shift compass for laying out the speaker holes.

I had an old very cheap jigsaw which was ~$20 from Bunnings (maybe my memory is exaggerating). However, after a test cut, I determined that it cut the circles great! The bottom of the mid-box which is a bit of a weird shape was also cut partially with the jigsaw. I judged that precision was not a necessity here.

I did later make a layout error with the handle holes – I carefully calculated where my handles should go (based on guesstimate), and jigsawed/rasped/sanded the hole to accept my first handle. I laid out and triple checked the second hole, and drilled the hole for the jigsaw to start, before (on a whim) checking it visually against the other side. It didn't match! It turns out I was measuring from the bottom rather than the top, so the two sides were mis-matched.

Fortunately, I had only done the drill-hole, so I was able to fashion a plug from plywood with a coping saw. After cutting the rough shape, I hammered a nail into the plug, mounted onto my drill, and rounded the plug on a piece of wood that I had glued some rough 40 grit sandpaper onto. I was then able to plug this into the hole with more Sika! Thankfully, this plug blended fairly well, and ended up being half-covered by the handle anyway. Phew! Every cut is so high stakes!

As I do not plan to combine this box with a second cab, and most commercial cabs have two inputs/outputs for daisy chaining, I decided to leave this cab with just the one speakon connector. I did not bother with a connector plate, opting to mount the connector directly onto the plywood. Yes, it protrudes a little bit, but it does the job, and is a very simple, clean solution. I drilled a hole for the connector, then used a rasp to enlarge it to accept the round connector more or less perfectly. I also made sure to use the gasket tape when installing to make a nice clean seal. You can see a shot of the nubbin in the finishing section.

Step 3 – Assemble the cabinet

So I wanted a wood finish Scandinavian inspired cab, with a natural clear finish. This meant I didn't want any fasteners (screws/nails) marring the aesthetics of my beautiful creation. However, this set me up for a fairly tedious build, as each join needed to be glued up separately.

I also have no joining apparatus (such as dowel jig, biscuit joiner, pocket hole jig), and limited clamps (two smallish clamps). Getting things aligned correctly was fairly stressful with the limited set time of the Sika. Fortunately, a work colleague lent me two sash (long bar) clamps – despite their griminess, I wouldn't have been able to build the cab without them.

The glue was fantastic, but definitely had a learning curve. I was unprepared for how slippery the glue was while still setting. I also took the wrong approach for the squeeze out – I tried to rub sawdust into the wet glue, which apparently works for white PVA glue, but not for poly-based glues like the Sika. Fortunately the ugly matt smear from this only affected the port. The better approach was letting the squeeze out mostly harden, then cut off with a chisel. You can see the ugly squeeze out here:

I was also unprepared for the glue-up pressure! You really have to get things done – fairly high stress environment. One time in particular I had my wife put her head in the garage asking a question, and I had to politely tell her to please leave, I am gluing!

I did try to use a screw to attach the shelf to the port divider, which was a total disaster. Despite all my measurements and layout, the port divider hadn't been aligned perfectly in the centre, and I don't think the layout on the shelf was that flash either. This meant having to re-drill the pilot hole in the intense glue-up pressure. This epically failed, and I actually broke a tip of a drill bit, which is still somewhere in the port divider to this day.

And so I continued – glue up by glue up, each one not too onerous, but with heaps of separate glues to do. The 'clamps only' approach seemed to work out well, and I created many ingenious jigs to ensure that everything was positioned mirror less accurately and my limited supply of clamps (augmented with weights) did the business.

The wood did slightly warp, and the cuts were often a mm or two out, so there was a good bit of rasping/sanding near the end to get the last final pieces to fit. One of my best ideas was to glue some low-grit sandpaper to a scrap piece – the poor man's plane.

Step 4 – Buy and assemble the crossover/electricals

At first when I saw the price of the components, I thought it would be easier to source local component equivalents here. However, after chatting to my acoustic engineer bud, it turns out components of this size are just expensive. So I bit the bullet and paid the $100 to get everything shipped from Erse all the way down under.

This was by far the most daunting part of the project, as I have no electrical experience and had to learn everything from scratch, especially how to decipher the circuit diagram! I also had no idea how to attach everything, and finally decided after looking at other builds to base it on a terminal block.

For some reason, I decided to make a "breadboard" from a scrape piece of ply from the project by drilling a whole bunch of holes in it (I glued on some graph paper to get these more or less aligned). Although tedious, this made it much easier to cable-tie the components to the board, and hopefully provides some cooling. I put some foam pads under the four corners of the board, so there is some room for air to get underneath and rise through the components.

On one Wednesday night, with the wife out teaching an art class, it was time to do the assembling!

I couldn't find any glue sticks, and my wife had the car, so I had to cycle down to The Warehouse. They didn't have any real glue sticks, so I ended up buying a mini-glue gun and mini-glue sticks! Around $10 all up.

I used the hot glue + cable tie combo to secure the components. I was super paranoid with the two inductors, putting them at opposite ends of the board.

Here you can see my pencil schematic of how the wires actually needed to be laid out – I think it would be next to impossible to do this based on the plans, especially with the terminal to terminal connections (very confusing, but it works!) I do not foresee myself ever going through the hassle of building one of these again, so I didn't bother with the switch (although it took me a while to figure out which configuration the padded one was – turns out it is the configuration that the wiring is set in the plan.)

For wiring, I used the same cable used internally, so I had to do a lot of stripping. My solders are probably overdone, but I tested the mechanical integrity of each one so I think they were OK! Please do not judge my soldering lol. I also glued down most of the wires for extra measure.

I ended up mounting this on the shelf. It took up two thirds of the shelf and hung over the port divider by ~10mm – hopefully not a big deal!

Step 5 – Buy and install the speakers (the expensive part)

I actually did this much earlier due to excitement! I ended up buying both of them from eBay – even with shipping and customs they were much cheaper than in NZ. I think the Eminence one was actually semi second hand – they had bought two for a project but never made it, so I got a fairly good price. Pretty exciting!

Step 6 – Hardware and finishing

I bought most of the hardware from a sketchy place called Surplus Tronics – at this point one of the spring handles has already failed. However, everything was fairly cheap, and it was handy getting the corners, wiring, terminal block, feet, handles, and speaker covers from one place. One of the springs in the spring handles has already failed though, but it isn't very expensive to replace.

I took a bit of time figuring what batting to use, as we don't have denim insulation here. I almost bought some fibreglass pink batts, then changed my mind and decided to go the polyfill way. I was hoping to get away with quite cheap for this, and put out a cry for help on Facebook with no success, so I forked out the ~$20 at Spotlight to buy some 'Polyester Wadding' – a 30mm thick sheet 122cm x 150cm. This did me very nicely, with only some left over.

I used a combination of PVA glue and hot glue to attach the sheets to the plywood. I think the hot glue was more effective, at least immediately. I put down two layers on the back, with one layer most other places.

After running the internal wiring (mainly with hot glue), and gluing the batting, I could finally glue on the back of the beast!

Sanding took a lot of time. Despite my best efforts, I had a bit of overhang in some of the joins, and used a bit of pine wood filler to fill some gaps and to fillet some uneven joints. Overall, I am happy with how it turned out. A lot of the imperfections seem to be only visible to my eyes! Wood filler also helped a lot with voids in the plywood.

Once this was all done, it was time for the finish. I managed to get some satin water based polyurethane from a friend who had it left over from some flooring. It was old and had bits of crustiness in it, but it did the job. Water based is supposed to be a lot clearer (less yellow), and was very pleasant to work with – I didn't have to worry too much about it getting on my hands. It was a very strange creamy white, but dried to a silky smooth clear finish.

I made the mistake of laying down the finish way too thick on the first coat and was left with visible drips and runs all over the cab. After a good deal of sanding, I learnt my lesson and the subsequent two coats were much thinner and more successful.

I sanded up to about 160 before finishing, and sanded up to 300 between coats with an electric sander. I put down three coats, then had to do three coats on the bottom too. I spent a bit of time before finishing rounding over the corners with a rasp and sandpaper to accept the plastic corner protectors. I also slightly rounded off the edges.

I did have some issues trying to find "gasket tape" – I ended up just buying weather proofing closed cell tape in black. Was much more expensive than I hoped, but seemed to do a good job of sealing the handles, speakon plug, and 18sound speaker (the Eminence 15 already had some foam around the speaker.)

Step 7 – Trying it out!

I was super scared to try this out. The main thing was the wiring/crossover – if I stuffed something up here, I could blow drivers (I think!). I had no certainty that I hadn't made a mistake, or accidentally shorted something… let alone making errors with the box itself (air leaks, etc.)

One of my friends came around with his Markbass Little Mark II and nervously, we turned it on.

It worked! Boy this thing is sensitive! A lot louder than I expected, especially in our lounge, although it definitely keeps up with a drummer as well. I am yet to really push it though.

I am very pleased with the cleanness and transparency of the sound. It gives me great joy to hear a new level of distinction between my bass pickups (Stingray HH), let alone playing with the tonal variety of the VT bass.

Overall, this has been a very rewarding project, and my confidence in problem solving and DIY has grown exponentially. I have just learnt so flippin much over this project. I especially learnt a lot from the Greenboy official forum. Although i have not posted on the forum, I have lurked pretty hard, and the amount of helpfulness and knowledge there is outstanding, so thanks to everyone there! And a special thanks to Greenboy for making these amazing plans and resources free for us all to use!

#fEarful #Greenboy #Bass cab #DIY #plywood