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ghstandpucks · 3 years ago

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Pain of a Crush ~Cale Makar 4+1

Summary: The 4 times physical therapy brought you together, and the one time away from it. After Cale hurts his wrist, the last thing he expected was to run into an injured figure skater at physical therapy, then keep showing up when he didn't have to anymore just to see her.

Warnings: None

Author's note*: I have now ruptured both my Achille's tendons. I have been through intense physical therapy for it, and have not been able to jump on the ice since my first surgery. What the reader goes through is from my own experience with the injury.

Enjoy!

Master List

Cale hated it there. He knew he had to go, but that still didn’t mean he had to like it. After taking a particularly bad slash to his right wrist, Cale ended up in physical therapy while he worked his way back to playing condition. His injured wrist already had him out for three weeks, and he was just looking to get stronger and get back to his team. The physical therapy office he went to was one that all the athletes in Denver frequented at one point or another in their careers. Mostly everyone kept to themselves; working out their injuries to get back to their team. He did not know what to make of this one girl though who seemed to sweep in and catch his eye��or hand when he accidently tripped her because of her crutches.

You looked up at the building, having just been dropped off by your uber. This injury just came with pleasant inconveniences, like not being able to drive yourself anywhere. That was what physical therapy is for though, as you were constantly reminded by your mom every time you text her upset about your current situation. Physical therapy was so much more than that though; it’s a way for you to get back on the ice. You felt like such an idiot when it all happened at first. You were an Olympic figure skater, how could you forget to jump out of an off ice training jump, snapping your Achilles tendon completely in half? You had done the move about a thousand times, why now?

It’s not like you were missing competitions at least, having retired from the circuit two years prior with an Olympic medal. Unfortunately now though, you were touring with Stars on Ice when it happened, and had to have surgery. Returning to your hometown of Denver, Colorado wasn’t what you had in mind when you were asked to tour around the country with all your friends. Here you were though, ready to start your recovery process so you could get back on the ice. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N! Welcome. I’m Gerald Jones and I will be handling your P.T. How are you doing today?” an elderly yet very physically fit man approached you with a caring smile.

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?” you asked, letting go of your crutch to shake his hand.

“Great, thanks for asking. Let's get you over to the exam room so I can see what we’re working with and get you started on a regiment. Right this way,” he motioned for you to follow as he held open another set of doors for you. Stepping further inside the building, you noticed the gym set up, with crazy work out machines you would never know how to use. There was a side that also seemed a little tamer, with what looked like leg exercise machines and equipment; you figured you would be there mostly. There were also a few other professional athletes milling about, some with trainers, others doing their own exercises. Gerald noticed you taking in your surroundings. “We like to keep spaces open for our past clients, in case they feel like something is wrong or need an adjustment to a workout. Which is something you will also have access to once we feel you have completed your therapy.” he said.

“That’s awesome. It’s hard to come back from some injuries,” you said softly, knowing yours was one of those. Your surgeon had told you it was possible that you would never skate again, and you were determined to prove him wrong. Gerald led you into a side room and asked for you to take off your walking boot…that you haven’t actually been able to walk in yet. He examined your ankle and made you feel positive about your recovery time.

“Your surgeon did a great job. We’ll have you walking and running in no time!”

“What about skating?” you asked, and he gave you a kind smile.

“We’re going to do our best to get you back out there,” he said, and you nodded, knowing he couldn’t promise you a full recovery. “Alright Y/N, ready to begin?” this time you smiled, looking forward to ditching the crutches and having two feet on the ground. As you crutched your way toward a more open area of floor, you were busy intently listening to Gerald explain what you would be working on when your right crutch seemed to snag on something and throw you off balance. You automatically reached out with your arm, grabbing the nearest object to you as Gerald turned around to try to balance you. You hadn’t put any real pressure on your ankle yet, and you didn’t want to set it down with all your momentum going forward. Another hand grasped your forearm while an arm caught around your waist.

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” a voice spoke up next to you as Gerald gathered your fallen crutch. Looking toward the voice, you were met with an awkward smile and bright red cheeks.

“Nice reflexes Makar. That wrist feeling better?” Gerald asked as he handed you back your crutch. The guy who had caught you helped you straighten back up.

“It is, ya,” he responded, rolling the wrist you had just been holding on to.

“Oh my God. Did I hurt you?!” you rushed out, now concerned that your near death moment caused him pain.

“I tripped you and you’re the one on crutches, and you’re asking if I’m okay?” he chuckled, and his question made you blush. You shrugged. “I’m fine. I hope you’re okay.” You nodded. Gerald cleared his throat softly, and you could have died of embarrassment, realizing you’ve been staring at this beautiful stranger.

“Y/N Y/L/N, this is Cale Makar. He’s actually a hockey player on the Avs,” Gerald introduced you. Of course you knew who he was now. You may have been traveling for skating, but you didn’t live under a rock. “Cale, Y/N is a figure skater.”

“You competed in the Olympics right?” Cale asked, smiling at you.

“Guilty,” you said in a small voice.

“That’s awesome! Well you’re in good hands with Mr. Jones, he knows what he’s doing,” Cale said, then lowered his voice dramatically. “Just don’t tell him that cause it’ll go to his head.” You giggled.

“Okay kid, get back to work. Let’s get you walking Y/N.” Both you and Cale smiled at each other, and you may have slightly admired how his cheeks were a bit rosy.

The following week you were back at physical therapy, slowly walking on a treadmill. Gerald was adjusting your foot every other second, as you kept wanting to step on the outside of your foot instead of laying your foot flat when you stepped. “Y/N, you really need to stop shifting the way you're stepping. You’re too young to not correct this,” he said kindly, though you knew from the poke he gave your ankle that he was really trying not to sound aggravated.

“It just hurts still. It’s not comfortable,” you tried to explain, still keeping a lot of tension in your upper body as you tried to hold a majority of your wait up on the arms of the treadmill.

“I know it does, but you need to learn again. Trust that I wouldn’t have you doing this if your tendon couldn’t take it,” he said sympathetically.

“I do trust you,” you said with a sigh as he corrected your foot placement yet again.

“Good. Now show me you know how to walk,” he said, standing up in front of your machine and looking over your shoulder. You rolled your eyes slightly, though you were trying to keep your foot in the correct position. Glancing at Gerald, you saw him smirk for a moment, then he looked at you with a smile too big for you to trust.

“Should I be scared?” you asked, earning a chuckle from the elder man.

“No. I do need to help someone for a moment though. I’m going to send someone over here to keep you in line,” he winked, then was off. ‘Ok, weird,’ you thought, but kept on trying to walk correctly.

“Doesn’t that hurt worse?” a deep voice came from behind you, and you almost twisted your good ankle to see if it was who you thought it was. Cale was watching your foot, though he smiled shyly up at you when he noticed you turned.

“Everything kinda hurts right now,” you spoke softly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t you be focused on your own recovery?”

“Gerald asked me to come over here and make sure you weren’t cheating,” he smiled at you, sitting in front of you while he did his own exercises for his wrist. Gerald had gone over to Cale, telling him to go talk to you. When Cale asked why, Gerald had just winked and said you needed some motivation to walk correctly again.

“I’m not cheating. This just sucks,” you pointed to your foot that was back to rolling on the side.

“That seems highly uncomfortable,” he chuckled, though stopped when you grimaced while trying to fix it.

“You have no clue,” you smiled at him, though he could see the exhaustion and wear on you from therapy. “How’s your wrist?”

“Better everyday. I got the okay to practice with the team next week,” he smiled.

“That’s great, congrats!” you said, though a little sad that might mean you wouldn’t see him around anymore. Cale nodded, then asked the question that left a pit in your stomach the moment you injured yourself.

“When do you get to return to skating?” he asked, sincerely curious. Your face fell for a second as you stumbled on the treadmill, your ankle not fully cooperating. Cale looked at you with concern in his eyes, his question almost being answered by the action.

“They don’t know if I’ll be able to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “At least not jump again.” you added, trying to hold back the tears. When the doctors told you that you may never skate again, you balled but then became oddly defiant. Who were they to say what you could or couldn’t do. But as time passed, and you couldn’t even keep your foot flat on the ground when you walked, the more you kept dreading that they were right. Cale could see your eyes become watery, and he felt horrible for being the one who asked the question.

“I’m sorry I asked…” he started apologizing, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“No, no, it wasn’t you. I’m just a little emotional over it. I’m sorry, you were asking an honest question,” you tried to smile at him and Cale sent you a small smile back.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Cale sighed dramatically, causing you to giggle. “You walk normal and…” he trailed off as he looked around, spotting a coffee cup by your water. “And I’ll bring you a cup of coffee next week,” he beamed at you.

“That’s not necessary,” you couldn’t help the smile on your face.

“I almost made you cry, I think it is,” he chuckled and you laughed with him. Over the next ten minutes as the two of you continued to talk, you were slowly able to get your foot flat on the ground.

“Looking great Y/L/N! Why don’t you go over to the table and we’ll finish out your stretches before you go,” Gerald said as he walked back over and stopped the treadmill. You nodded.

“Thanks for the motivation Cale,” you smiled and waved as you walked off.

“One coffee coming up,” he replied as Gerald eyed him comically.

“You’re done after today son,” the older man said with a raised eyebrow, causing Cale’s cheeks to flush.

“Um ya…I, um, I thought you said I could still come though,” he struggled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’ll be back on Monday at 10am,” Gerald said with a wink and starting to make his way to you. “I would also like a coffee” he yelled over his shoulder.

Cale had just finished up practice Monday, more than thankful to be back on the ice with the team. Checking his phone, he saw it was 9am and quickly showered and changed so he could go get the coffee he owed you…and Gerald. As he called out his goodbyes to the men left in the locker room, JT got his attention. “Lunch?” the ginger asked, and Cale shook his head.

“I have to get to PT,” he said, not thinking.

“I thought you were done with that?” Gabe asked. Cale opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out, his flushed cheeks growing a bit more red.

“Ya, I did but…”

“But there’s a different reason you’re going, isn’t there?” The captain pried as Cale awkwardly waved off his comment and tried to bolt for the door.

“Aw, young love at the physical therapist’s office,” he heard EJ shout as the door closed behind him.

Cale picked up three coffees and made his way to the PT office. He arrived a little after 10, immediately spotting you and Gerald. You were back on the treadmill with Gerald having to tap your foot every so often so it would be flat again, but this time you were walking without hanging on to the sides of the treadmill. “No crutches today?” Cale asked as he approached. You turned to smile at him, stumbling a bit in the process but Gerald held out his arm for you to lean on.

“She’s getting there,” Gerald answered with a chuckle, taking his coffee from Cale. He stopped your machine and helped you off and over to a seat for a quick break.

“As promised,” Cale smiled at you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking a small sip.

“Okay Y/L/N, I think it’s time,” Gerald spoke up as he wrapped your ankle in a supportive brace and put your shoe back on.

“Time for what?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“No more treadmill. You’re going to walk around the track without your crutches,” he said, patting your foot as if to say ‘off you go.’

“Really? By myself?” you asked, excited though slightly nervous. Gerald smiled and motioned to Cale.

“I’m sure Makar wouldn’t mind keeping you company. Just take your time and walk slowly. When it starts to hurt, sit for a second. I think we’ll start with 4 laps today since you’ve been doing about a mile on the treadmill anyways,” the older man said, and Cale stood to help you up. He set his coffee down and took yours, then held out his hands for you with an encouraging smile. You gently place your hands in his and let him pull you up, steading yourself in his grip. “Remember your foot placement. Slow and steady,” Gerald said and you nodded. Walking on the treadmill was one thing, but now being without your crutches off of it felt weird. You took a few steps, smiling to yourself at your progress and turned to Cale.

“Can we take the coffee?” you whispered and he chuckled, grabbing both your coffees and slowly walking by your side.

“How is it? Without your crutches,” Cale asked as you got to the indoor track.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” you giggled, taking a sip of your coffee and trying not to concentrate on the burn in your calf from the tendon.

“Well, you seem to be doing great,” Cale smiled at you. You could feel yourself flush a bit under his gaze.

“Don’t you have your own workouts to do?” you asked, and it was Cale’s turn to flush.

“I can do them later,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t want to keep you from them though,” you said with a slight frown.

“You aren’t!” Cale said a little too quickly and you raised an eyebrow at him. “I did it mostly this morning at the rink,” he tried to cover.

“And you still came here?” you questioned.

“I owed you coffee,” you shyly smiled, Cale hoping it would come out more as a joke and you would stop asking before he had to admit he was only there to see you.

“We could have gotten coffee after,” you said softly, diverting your gaze from him as you came up on your second lap around the track.

“Yeah?” Cale didn’t really know what else to say. Were you saying you would want to see him outside of physical therapy?

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a sip to hide your blush while Cale couldn’t stop beaming.

Two weeks later, you were on your last day of PT! You were walking, jogging, and jumping on your leg again. The tendon felt strong and both your doctor and Gerald agreed you were done with therapy. You were so excited that the second you noticed Cale had come in, you ran and jumped on him. “We’re feeling better, eh?” he laughed as he easily caught you in a hug.

“I’m done!” you squealed as he set you back down. Though you had mentioned to Cale about seeing him outside of PT, nothing ever came of it. He still showed up at some point during every one of your sessions though, so you weren’t sure where you stood.

“That’s awesome! Congrats Y/N!” he said, though now wondering when he would get to see you again.

“And guess what!” you said with such excitement that he couldn’t help but laugh at you. He hummed for you to continue. “I get to skate again!”

“That’s great,” Cale pulled you into another hug, as he knew that had been something you had been worried about.

“Well kind of,” you said, your smile falling. Cale looked at you in concern. “They said I can’t jump anymore. It’s too much strain on the tendon and it could potentially snap again.” you explained, trying to hold back the tears you could feel forming. If you couldn’t jump anymore, there was no more touring. Was it even worth getting back on the ice at this point?

“It’ll be alright,” Cale said, though a tear finally escaped your eyes. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I know it isn’t the exact outcome you wanted, but you’ve been working so hard and at least you can get on the ice again,” he tried to soothe you, and you nodded, pulling yourself back together.

“I still have to finish today out. Want to jog with me?” you dried your other eye and motioned toward the track.

“Of course.” Without thinking, Cale grabbed hold of your hand and led you to the track. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gerald smirking, though you chose to ignore him. You jogged with Cale around the track a few times, him telling you about practice earlier that day. When you were done and doing your cool down stretches, Gerald came over and said his goodbyes to both of you, since he figured with you gone he wouldn’t be seeing Cale anymore either.

“You two be good! Know you can always come back if something feels off okay,” he smiled kindly, and you hugged the older gentleman.

“Thank you for everything,” you said. Cale shook his hand and the two of you walked out together. You both stopped outside the building, knowing this was where you had to part ways. Standing around awkwardly, you spoke up first. “Um, I guess I’ll see you…”

“Can I get your number?” Cale asked in a rush, cheeks flushing. You giggled and nodded your head, putting your number into his phone.

“Don’t wait forever to text me,” you said, lightly biting your lip.

“Not a chance,” Cale grinned, planting a kiss on your cheek as you both said goodbye. Cale kept his word, not even an hour later he was texting you, and two hours later you had dinner plans for the following evening.

“I don’t know about this Cale. I’m kind of nervous,” you said, getting out of the car and looking at the large building in front of you.

“No one is here Y/N, it’ll be fine. And I’ll be right next to you,” Cale said, grabbing both your skate bags and walking around to you. You and Cale had been dating for a month now, and you just told him yesterday that you wanted to get back on the ice. You knew your balance would need some work, and were a little bummed you couldn’t jump, but getting back out there would be the best thing for you after dealing with your injury. When you told Cale, he immediately got with the rink manager at the practice rink so it could be just the two of you while you got comfortable on the ice again.

After lacing up your skates, you walked to the opening with Cale, him stepping onto the ice first. He turned and held out his hand for you and you gently took it. You stepped out with your good ankle first, smiling at the feeling of the ice beneath you again. When your speed started to slow, you glanced up at Cale. “I got you,” he nodded. You gently placed your foot down and pushed off, laughing when your ankle automatically turned in and curved your projection.

“I swear, if I have to learn how to skate again I am going to hurt someone,” you let go of Cale’s hand and kept gliding.

“I don’t think that’s necessary sweetheart,” Cale chuckled, making sure he was within reach of you.

“I can do this, I don’t know what the doctors were oh crap!” you stumbled, Cale catching you by the waist.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he kissed your cheek and you leaned back into him.

“I really can’t jump anymore can I?” you asked softly, staring down at your skates.

“Maybe in time. But let’s just focus on you balancing today. One worry at a time,” Cale soothed you, and you smiled up at him. Steading yourself on his arms that were around you, you turned so you could face him.

“Though I hate that this happened, I’m glad I met you in the process,” you whispered, Cale smiling down at you.

“Me too,” he whispered back, lowering his head to give you a gentle kiss that still made all the butterflies in your stomach erupt.

tagging: @avsfans95 @tysojost @hockeylvr59 @awaywiththe @youngbeezer @duhhhokay @willnythehockeyguy88 @mp0625 @justanotherfansblog @corneliaskates @excercizoeoeoe @localcalumhoe @all-time-fanatic @islandofthelostsoul @1800-spaceygracie @joeyisourranger @bordyshandtats @thescooby-gang @starswin @chirpychirpy12345678

#nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #cale maker imagine #cale makar x reader #cale makar imagine #nhl imagine

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veivie · 3 years ago

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Okay, Imagine Cale in Kny-

It was a perfectly normal day, Cale was sitting on his rock seat while staring at nothing for hours-

War between him and white star end 2 years ago, and yes- he has his beloved slacker life-

Cale was looking up at the ceiling, his hand moving to rub the head of Raon who was sleeping on his lap- when suddenly a white light appeared before his eyes.

The last thing Cale heard was a scream from Raon-

'That goddamn God!'

The next thing Cale see when he open his eyes is tree- yes, Cale was stranded in a forest in the middle of nowhere.

Cale clicked his tongue, the redhead swear will kill that GoD.

Cale started walking through the forest, he could hear strange sounds like screams(?) Cale sighed, luckily his ancient powers went with him.

After a while of walking suddenly someone- Cale wasn't actually sure it was a human- got in his way.

His ancient power told him that the person had dead mana all over his body-

The creature started laughing and talking nonsense. Annoyed, Cale ended up attacking the creature.

Cale kicked the creature, Cale put his foot on the creature's chest and looked down at it.

"Bastard-"

Cale raised his hand and flames started to appear, the redhead raised his head and met the eyes of the five people who were also looking at him.

Being a nerd he is- Cale instantly recognized the five people.

Well- Cale was watch(read) Kny anime(manga).

'Fuck- isn't that Tanjiro-? What the- what the hell is happening?!'

Cale and the five people looked at each other.

Tanjiro: ".........."

Shinobu: "............"

Giyuu: "........."

Nezuko: ".........."

Kanao : ".........."

Cale: “.........Fuck.”

Yep, Cale being dragged to Demon slayer corps-

And Cale weren't happy, at. all.

Cale then met with the Hashira. When Sanemi being Sanemi, Cale just stare at them. And because Cale doesn't want to make the dude with anger issues became more angry- Cale choose to just sit still beside Muichiro and together staring blanky at sky-

Yup. Since that day, Cale and Muichiro became besties.

Whenever Muichiro does not have a mission, Muichiro always find Cale to just sit beside him and staring at nothing for hours, together.

Does Cale have a mission? Ofc- he is now living in the demon slayer residence, of course Cale got the mission especially after the 2 hashiras saw the power of the cheapskate in his hands-

Cale being dragged with Tanjiro-

Cale was on the Mugen train mission- he met Akaza, but that dude didn't try to attack him-

Why? Because Akaza thought that Cale was a woman- Yup, with long red hair and a feminine face-

Cale really felt offended-

Luckily they managed to save Rengoku so that hashira doesn't become a donut -like Ace- ekhem, I mean, dead.

Cale was being dragged -again- into the red light district mission.

Cale who knew that upper moon 6 was in one of the embroidery houses was trying his best not to go in there-

But, being unlucky bastard he is. Tengen's 'unique' make up couldn't hide Cale's beautiful face- Yup, Cale entered the same embroidery house as upper moon 6.

While at the embroidery house, Cale really caught everyone's attention including Daki (upper moon 6), because of his pretty face as well as his talent-

Cale truly felt that Eruhaben was right. He's really Unlucky bastard.

The fight ensued- Cale pretended to be injured and only watched the fight on the side-

But being a sacrifice bastard he is- Cale use his ancient powers and end up cough up blood- they're win anyways.

Cale and the Kamaboko squad rested, and as usual, Muichiro came and sat beside Cale and together stared blankly at the ceiling.

Muichiro then said that he was going to the village of the sword makers- actually Cale already knew what was going to happen. But the redhead just kept quiet and listened to Muichiro's words and occasionally responded.

Not wanting anything bad to happen- Cale ended up coming along with Tanjiro to the village-

Cale himself didn't know why he was doing this- haa.

The fight was back on, and now Cale really didn't do anything-

Sike! He returned to using his ancient power.

They're win again, anyways.

The final battle between the demon slayers and the demons took place, Cale was separated from everyone and found himself in the same room as Douma-

Haa- Cale was really tired.

But anyways, they they are without anyone dying from the side of the demon slayers (except oyakata-sama)

(Thanks to Cale, because he being sacrifice bastard he is.)

After Tanjiro turned into a demon and turned back into a human-

Just then, in the middle of the celebration, Cale's body started to break apart.

Everyone panicked seeing this.

Cale simply shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and smiled at them.

"Well- I guess, it's about time."

"What are you talking about?!"

Cale chuckled a little.

"Live well. See you later."

The Demon slayers looked at the redhead who disappeared-

When Cale opened his eyes, he had returned to the super rock villa with Raon who was crying and counting numbers backwards.

Cale smiled, he then gently stroked Raon's head.

"Human! You're awake!" Hearing the voice from Raon, all the family entered.

They all immediately hugged Cale tightly.

"I am home."

"Welcome back."

#lout of count’s family #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #lcf #tcf #alternate universe

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ask-edd · 2 years ago

Note

WHAT MARTIAN?! WHOS COMING BACK?!

This is Your Favorite Martian! They're an animated band from ~2011 with the irl members Ray William Johnson and Jesse Cale! They released a video saying to keep an eye out for their new album coming up and then Ray had issues with Maker Studios and the whole thing got shut down. Like "we're never coming back and changed the name of the Youtube channel THIS PROJECT IS RETIRED" shut down.

BUT THEN A FEW MONTHS AGO THEY STARTED REUPLOADING OLD MUSIC THAT GOT TAKEN DOWN AND NOW LOOKIT, THEY HAVE A DATE AND THE NAME IS CHANGED TO THIS PROJECT IS REBORN

This band means so much to me and you cannot even begin to imagine how excited I am for this!!

#legit this band means the world to me I clung to them in high school #and now they're coming back ;v;#ask #art #eddsworld #ew dan #your favorite martian

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bbbrianjones · 2 years ago

Note

soft machine / the walker brothers !

SOFT MACHINE

kevin ayers!! now ok i would be lying to you if at least 40% of it was because he's pretty cute. i can remember seeing a picture, in fact, wait a minute

i remember seeing this picture and thinking oh ok,,, who's that guy in the kimono?? i know it's shallow but i know without his pretty little face i wouldn't know or hear about soft machine!! i do think he's just the most charming little fellow to have ever existed, and his songs just show that so well!! personally, i think the songs he did after the soft machine are some of his best work i think of his first debut album and all the songs on there and just think its the most perfect album!! all the songs just belong there and together, genuinely that album is all killers and no fillers !! every time i hear any of those songs it makes me so happy, and i feel like i'm discovering a new favourite song every time i hear it!! also he slept with john cale's wife and apparently inspired a song, power move of the century.

THE WALKER BROTHERS

wouldn't it be cute if i said someone other than scott walker?? the literal face, music and dare i say SOLE person of the walker brothers. i do feel bad for john and gary because i do kinda forget they are there. i mean scott's right there, could you really blame me?? anyway my favourite blonde hair blue eyed girl. i love reading interviews in those silly 60s magazines like melody maker or rave and scott is being so pretentious and so annoying, like one of the headlines was something like 'does it suck to be the most attractive pop star in the world??' like yeh scott 🙄🙄 it must suck so badly to be so hot and popular 🙄🙄🙄🙄 it's a bit of a similar thing with kevin because i do prefer scott's later work in his solo career rather than the music he was doing in the walker brothers. however, it is quite sweet looking at the songs he was doing during the walker brothers, like look at this little nerd !!! of course, some of those songs basically gear towards the teenage fangirl so they can dream about pretty boy scott singing about them and it just so happens those are my favourites <3 like 'love her', i don't know they do have this weird theme of songs about regretting not loving their girlfriend as much and then being like 'yeh treat her well' to the other guy she's with,,, has anyone else noticed that? anyway i ADORE the drama in this song. to me it's just a staple when it comes to walker brother songs. from the vocals to the theatrical lift when the chorus starts!! i could go on for hours about this song because in some way it's literally so silly but at the same time, so beautiful!!! also the sun ain't gonna shine anymore?? i mean c'mon,, what a song!! scott just makes that song, really it belongs to him. no one else is allowed to touch it!! i remember one time me and my dad were driving and when this song came on idk man it just got to me and i started crying literally in the middle of the drive. i had no idea what happened but i was like oh my god i might go a little insane while i’m at it. another thing i love about scott's songs are the little stories and characters he writes about, it's very clear how much of an influence he is on jarvis cocker when you compare pulp lyrics to some of scott's!! the people and stories he is able to create with his songs are quite endearing, i think of mrs murphy and can imagine it being in some melodramatic soap opera!

#ask #astr0nomydomine #ask game : send a band and i'll tell you my favourite member!#i could talk about scott all day i love him so much but this was getting a little long. literally. even for me.

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fipindustries · 4 years ago

Photo

The ludomancer

So you heard of parahumans fans using their own lives to come up with triggers and create their own fan capes? well, that is more than well trodden ground so i figured lets take it an extra notch and figure out my own fan practitioner, my own fanctitioner! (disclaimer: many of of the personal details here were either exagerated or fabricated for dramatic effect)

backstory

i had open heart surgery when i was 6 months old, and if niccolette belanger is anything to go by, having big openings in your flesh at a very young age is free real state for persky spirits. Just imagine this giant entrance direct to my chest, leaving my heart ridden with holes and openly exposed.

Now this was in a very modern hospital in and incredibly sterile enviroment so is not like there were a lot of grisly phantasmagoric spirits crawling all over the place, you i was covered head to toe in technology, multiple wires and tubes and god knows what else all poking out of my chest, back in those days i was more machine than human. So with that in mind i like the idea that perhaps some fairly young spirits of electricity, technology, science and artificousness got inside me.

nothing too wild and powerful considering these things were all relatively recent by the standards of the practisce, but enough to have an influence. The general result is that i would be naturally inclined towards STEM fields, mad scientists, math and engeneering as a kid. I would constantly find myself getting involved into these enviroments (even when i didnt want to) such as going to a course in robotics, going to a high school soecialized in mechanics, studing computer science in college, etc.

my life would go on more or less like normal, the spirits slowly growing inside of me but always kept in check by my own essense and sense of self. Until...

Awareness

i changed careers and went to live at a college dorm in the middle of nowhere, five kilometers away from the nearest city, a small oasis of technology in the desert and the central hub for the Wi Fi of my state. As the years went by i became more and more isolated, my Conections grew weaker, my own sense of self got thinner and thinner (exacerbated by me finally questioning my gender identity). my prescence on the world was almost non existant, spending most of my time in my dorm in my computer not interacting with anyone, browsing ever incresingly more niche or obscure websites.

in this oasis of technology in the middle of nowhere, with my personal conections and sense of identity growing weaker, the spirits within me started to grow stronger and stronger, starting to screw with my very perception of reality, pushing things so that i would start to go down weird rabbit holes online, reading strange texts in impossibly formatted websites that would introduce strange ideas about the nature of reality, some times even downright attempting to posses me (i would try to rationalize these episodes where i would experience derealization as just panic attacts).

The spirits of technology would introduce me to forbidden ideas online, dangerous memetic cognitohazards, basiliks that would force me to perform obscure rituals to summon demonic entities from lost planes of reality, not aligned with human values. They would try and convince me that reality was a simulation and coax me to pierce the veil and see the true subyacent reality, that subatomic particles were capable of experiencing suffering, that i could be tortured for eternity if enough people were kept from getting dust specks in their eyes. If things had gone like that for much longer i would have probably ended up summoning or becoming an Ex Machina and probably an entire wing of the college campus would have been condemned.

Luckly in my college there just hapened to be a young dabbler who got wind of my situation. They took notice of me and were kind enough to put me in touch with an online community of witch hunters who specialized in cases like mine (the dabbler didnt take care of it themselves because they didnt want to accidentally reveal to me more than strictly necessary about the magic world, the group of witch hunters had a lot more experience solving this problems without the karmic burden of awakening someone)

The witch hunters were a fairly niche group within the larger community of witch hunters. They specialized in bayesian techniques. Using the tools of rationality to dispell illutions, glamours, mind tricks and half truths. They established firm rules for thinking and percieving the world so that Others wouldnt be able to decieve or manipulate them. Calling bullshit on the impossible. Their organization, the Magical Interference Restriction Institute, coordinated the efforts to develop safe protocols for the practisce in the digital age.

They exorcised most of it, gave me a few basic mental tools and rituals to keep the spirits in check and recommended me to try and forget about the whole affair. But fat chance about that, by this point my eyes had been opened.

The awakening

When i finished college and moved to a different city i did everything in my power to enter in contact with the practitioner world again. Walking around the city, reading craiglist adds, looking into different organizations. Of course i wasnt acting blindly, i was guided by some of the things that i had picked up during my posessions, the things the spirits had revealed to me, the forbidden texts that i had read and some of the advice the witch hunters gave me.

Eventually i managed to follow conections and came across a small cabal of practitioners who put the front of a board game club to recruit people and have a place to reunite while looking legitimate and not arising suspicion from the mundanes. The way the club would work was that on the front it was a normal place to play things like Catan, Carcassone, king of tokyo, etc. But on the back room they would “play test” new “games” between the senior members of the club. when in reality they would workshop new rituals to perform.

They would focus on a fairly recent branch of magic caled Ludomancy. Focused on the idea that any boardgame is in the end a ritual. it would be this communal activity with rules and mechanics, supported by the illution and the beliefs of the players who would manipulate symbols and idols across intricate diagrams.

they saw my experience with rules, logic and technology applied to magic and saw enough potential in me that they allowed me to join. Their awakening ritual is a bit different than most since they customized it based on their findings and experiences with rituals. Instead os sitting in a circle the circle is inscribed in a board. The piece that you use to move through the board has to be carved by you and has to be composed of elements that represent you and that are meaningful to you and it has to hold within a couple of drops of your blood.

You throw the dice and move across the board and depending on what places you fall in on of the cards will be drawn from the multiple decks. These cards will either give you challenges to overcome to prove yourself, make declarations and impositions on the kind of practitioner you will be once you awaken or just be criptic messages and riddles that wont be relevant or mean anything to you until many years down the line. You have to overcome the challenges, answer the questions posed by the cards and most of all, play the rules cleverly so that you can make your piece reach the center of the board and scream jumanji to complete the ritual. Now the rules of every awakening playthrough change and they can be incredibly intricate and complex, it can take a lot of cleverness of a lot of luck to finish this ritual but once you do you find yourself in a much firmer and powerful grounding than most begginers do.

the practice

i would probably focus on shamanism, collecting spirits here and there, slow and steady accumulation of a power base. i would like to get into constructs, acumulating spirits, helping them grow, give them a bit of my own power to help the process along, like sacrificing one drop of blood every week, or establishing small rituals of worship, and then mix and mashing them together to build more complex spirits, also i would probably offer small favors to the local practitioners in exchange of tibdits, trinkets and sources of power, always keeping it low profile and not too ambitious, something like helping with a ritual here and there, being a pair of extra hands, mostly giving help establishing magic circles and drawing diagrams, running small errands, sending messages. it would help let other people know that im not too much of a concern and hopefully they would let me be

if you need help or want to make an exchange with me you could come to my house and i would offer to play a game (usually one i made up) and in the process of playing the game i would perform the magic that you need or arrange the cosmological and quintessential pieces inside and outside of you according to your request.

My implement would be a set of D&D dices that i can use to make a bit of augury, affect probabilities, dictate outcomes and, in times of need, cheat at my games a bit. the rest of my equipment would be booklets and notebooks filled with my own designs, rulesets and texbooks, lots and of graph paper and one actual RPG supplement that i would use to bluff some of the more out of date Others by claiming that i have tomes filled with arcane spells and a full compendium of magicl creatures.

eventually i would try to diversify, focusing more on crafting and building, going more for the angle of the toy maker rather than game designer. I would build complex structures in papercraft, small mechanisms with cardboard, intricate contraptions with some clockwork and some springs.

i probably wouldnt get a familiar, i just dont see my self commiting to a life long companion. i would desperatly try to establish a demesne but that would also be rather complicated since i dont see my self owning property any time soon either.

#pale #pact #parahumans #wildbow #fan art #fan fic

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halfblood-fiend · 7 years ago

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So I just wanna make a huge, and I mean massive, thank you post for all y’all that came out and supported me during my liveblogging of finishing The Calling over the last couple days. It’s honestly been the best part of being stuck in bed sick and it actually made me want to finish that bound--forgive my language here--piece of crap. (If you wanna see the posts, you can find it all under #Fiend attacks The Calling and spoilers are tagged, just in case.)

For anyone who’s interested in me doing it again, the other two DA books I haven’t read right now are Asunder and The Masked Empire and you can let me know via ask, message, reply, or whatever, which one should be done next (though I think I know which one might win).

If you replied to any of my posts and didn’t get a shitty personal reply I tried to do through mobile, I am literally gonna put them all here, under the cut (and if you have the time, I feel like it’s worth looking through all of them because some people said interesting things and I like to think I can be pretty funny with my responses. lol). Lmao.

Thanks for enjoying this mess of a book with me! When I first started venting my frustrations, I low-key thought I’d be slamming a book everyone loved. Lol. I’m glad I was wrong.

@inuy21 replied to her own reply post: I’ll have to give Stolen Throne a look to see if will change my mind Loghain. Though I wasn’t really a fan of his in the game nor Maric’s in The Calling. And it’s Empress Celene, right? LOL

Nah, that book is actually called The Masked Empire. It’s the one where allegedly Celene and Michel de Chevin are The Worst™.

Anyways, do at least take a look at Stolen Throne because Loghain is 15/10 in that, honestly. I hated him too until I read that book and now I’m in love.

@thexann replied to Why do I hate David Gaider’s book’s so much?: The only good thing his books did for me were make me unconditionally love Loghain, but even then, his writing was so difficult to give a damn about I skipped around the ENTIRETY of The Stolen Throne, read all the good Loghain bits, then never picked it up again!

Same! High five for solidarity sisterrr!!

Skipping around, that was smart. That could’ve saved me a lot of Maric moaning and complaining as he destroyed not one, not two, but THREE of his friends’ lives. WHat a swell guy!

@october-rosehip (I hate it when it doesn’t TAG PEOPLE!!) replied to the same post: Dude needs an editor, BAD. He also suffers from… severe need for someone to hide his thesaurus. He’s written about people sitting redolently, smoking *kohl*, and once, three elves were playing HARPSICHORDS in a town center. Outdoors. Also, pacing issues. Dude has great ideas, but he’s not a novelist. Or historian.

He does! I’m surprised he didn’t have one? Isn’t everyone supposed to have one? Or did it not matter because he was riding on the coattails of a successful game of a hopeful franchise?

But yeah, I noticed that too. There’s overly conspicuous complex words, like he actually went into Word processor and tried to find the biggest word he could to replace his plain English ones. Causing no one to understand him. I mean harpsichords?? outside?? Has he ever SEEN a harpsichord??? Gaider wtf man... I look forward to that nonsense.

@cullenstairshenanigans replied to Dusty. Everything is “dusty” with this guy.: I quit after the 20th use of “the man”

Oh yeah. I saw that. He was notorious for that.

Don’t be afraid! Use people’s names! Do you realize how many men there were in this book?? Especially at the beginning?! Use. Names. There’s some free writing advice for ya, Gaider.

@october-rosehip replied to the same post: Oh, I guess someone DID steal his thesaurus.

Lmao. Only when it wasn’t convenient. Not only did he use “dusty” for everything, he also believes that the only noise swords make is a “clatter,” be it a “dull clatter” or a “clear clatter” (literally both phrases he used in the same scene!) Not to mention that he also thinks warriors just drop their swords willy nilly all over the place, as if they aren’t the most important singular possession to a SWORDSMAN.

@oh-thatcal replied to “She had never spoken of this to anyone.”: if you wanna rage, just read The Masked Empire… OTL these books are both good and awful at the same time.

I am actually rather beside myself with excitement tbqh.

@bombasticpro replied to Oh god now Maric is doing it too…: Dat dab

Now I’m not sure if I’m Young and Hip™ enough to understand this correctly, but I’ll go out on a limb and say, “Yeah, I know right??”

Maric and Fiona bled their hearts out to each other for literally no reason. Do real life people actually do this? I don’t go around spilling my deepest secrets. Maybe it’s just that no one has gained enough Approval to unlock my Tragic Backstory™ yet.

@oblivionscribe replied to Maric has been stabbed by several spears...: For all the head trauma Maric received, I’m surprised he lasted long enough to sire sons.

Me too. I seem to recall that this isn’t new either, that Maric was often receiving head trauma in The Stolen Throne too!

What I would like to know is why is no one wearing a fucking helmet???

@thecrazyfereldan replied to I think that I’m starting to see one...: His writing also tends to be rather dry.

TRUE. It’s hard to read. Like, I read his story the way I would eat beef jerky: slowly, in near agony because I like the taste but hate the texture, and with my jaw aching because I had to chew so god damn much. And in the end, it’s for what? A steak tastes better, is easier to eat and is still beef.

(the steak in this metaphor is a DA game btdubbs, lol)

But seriously, it goes right up there with show and don’t tell. Telling only takes me to Snoozeville.

@october-rosehip replied to the same post: Dislocated thumbs continue to dislocate for MONTHS if you keep using your hands. Guess how I know. Also? Putting them back in hurts just as much as putting them out in the first place.

Oh, yikes!! I am so sorry there, friend. But, yeah, I can see that because my jaw still gives me trouble. Not that it redislocates, but it’ll pop sometimes and it HURTS.

So that means that Duncan would have been in WAY more trouble by doing that to himself. Imagine being a rogue who’s thumbs kept dislocating??? Especially when he was trying to pick the locks on their manacles again in the climax?

And when Duncan popped his thumbs back in, all he said about it was that second quote (“He took a moment to get used to the stabbing pain…”). That was it.

Gaider, I can only suspend my disbelief so far, bro.

@oh-thatcal replied to @starlanellfic ‘s post about my liveblogging: Do all the books!

Dude... I kinda want to...

Although I wouldn’t do Stolen Throne again only because it would probably crumble into me fangirling over Loghain which no one, except maybe @@element-104 , would want to see. lol.

@ma-sulevin replied to Okay, so, as much as I sorta like Duncan...: My personal favorite part is when the mage asks him about Grey Warden stamina and he’s like “uhh….. YES yes we do have that let me show you”

*snorts* omg YES. It was classic! Predictable, but classic, and I was totally willing to accept that from him. xD

@ma-sulevin replied to WHY DID SHE KISS HIM I AM SO MAD... : It literally made no sense

I’m still mad. I haven’t gotten over it. There was no romance until that happened and even that was forced af. Not one piece of it felt real. At least I can thank the Maker that he didn’t write about Fiona “boobing boobily down the stairs” or any of that other male gaze nonsense.

@thesecondsealwrites replied to Duncan has an obsidian dagger. Smh.: \o/

Bless you, PonySeal. I feel like you might’ve already figured this was a peeve of mine. Lol.

@queenofeire replied to the same post: 0/10 against any kind of armor Hella sharp for 5-10 cuts then pretty much useless….

^^Yup, basically.

Granted, it ended up being magical? But if that mage didn’t enchant it with an Unbreakable spell, chances are it’s still useless. Fite me.

And @fenriswaifu? You’re welcome. :) Sorry if I ruined your Aesthetic.

@valammar replied to Gaider keeps using the word “almost.”: I’m still cackling at the last line of this post.

Look, I’m still VERY angry about obsidian knives, okay?? lmao. Volcanic glass IS GLASS, it’s not ALMOST GLASS. It is.

It is.

@amarmeme replied to Well that resolved neatly...: yea, that book was… not my cup of tea

Mine either. Of the three DA books I have now read, The Caling is my least favorite. And by least favorite, I mean it was awful. Sorry to those who love it.

And that’s all te replies for now. LMao.

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yahoo-puck-daddy-blog · 7 years ago

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NHL Draft 2017 Preview: Is this draft really any good?

Just like any other debate over the top two prospects in any given draft year, “Nico vs. Nolan” has been the big question for some time now.

They’re both good-sized centers. They’re both extremely talented, skate well, see the ice well. Nolan Patrick is more of a finisher, one supposes, while Nico Hischier is the distributor of the two. Not that they can’t do both at the junior level with ease.

Blah blah blah, you can read the scouting reports as well as I can. Doesn’t really answer the question of who New Jersey should take first overall tonight. This is one of those things where, like the Taylor vs. Tyler debate in 2010, you can’t really go wrong, but it’s worth noting that neither one is any sort of star in the making.

The consensus over the past few months has slowly shifted from Patrick — the clear No. 1 at the start of the season — to Hischier, who dominated both World Junior and the QMJHL. Patrick will probably receive some knocks to his No.-1-overall credibility because he spent much of the season injured, but frankly an abdominal issue like his isn’t a knee or back problem that should hurt his stock. Everything you read suggests it hasn’t and won’t.

With that in mind, though, Hischier has overtaken Patrick as the No. 1 prospect this year in many incredibly smart people’s minds — mine included — for a number of reasons. Most obviously is how both players racked up their points: Hischier had 1.51 per game versus Patrick’s 1.39, which maybe shouldn’t be that surprising given that it’s a little easier to score in the Q than the Dub, but take a closer look at the stats (thanks to Prospect-Stats.com) and you see a bigger gap.

More than 80 percent of Hischier’s 86 points came either as goals or primary assists. A smaller majority (65 percent or so) were primary points for Patrick. Moreover, Patrick only had 19 points at 5-on-5 in 33 games. Hischier had 40 in 57. And here too, the primary/secondary points gap comes into play.

In junior hockey, high-skill players can rack up a whole ton of points on the power play, especially if they play on lines with older players, so it can mask a lot of the struggles they might have at 5-on-5 playing as 17-year-olds. It’s worth noting that Patrick ranked sixth in 5-on-5 points per game among U-18 WHL forwards (with 0.79), whereas Hischier blew away every other U-18 forward in the Q (0.84, with the next-closest being Antoine Morand’s 0.67). Morand is considered a mid-to-late second-round pick by most scouting resources.

Add in the fact that Hischier is a few months younger — Patrick was born less than a week too late to be eligible for the Auston Matthews draft — and you can see why the majority of scouts are now lining up between this Swiss kid over a Good Canadian Boy.

So if your big question is Nico or Nolan, well, Nico seems to be your guy at this point. Things change, and even if New Jersey goes for Patrick instead, it wouldn’t be the biggest shock in the world. The gap is narrow, but it’s there.

Of course, that covers New Jersey and Philadelphia will have available to them in all likelihood. Dallas at No. 3? They’ll probably take a defenseman — not that they don’t need one — in either allegedly-UMass-bound AJHLer Cale Makar or Finnish pro Miro Heiskanen. There doesn’t seem to be a true consensus there either, but most agree they’re both a step behind the two forwards. And frankly, there are a number of centers the Stars could settle on here as well.

(Please note that Corey Pronman has stated that Makar could go first overall to the Devils, but is one of the only national voices claiming this. Something to keep an eye on.)

The term “weak draft” gets thrown around a lot, but it doesn’t strike me as particularly fair to this year’s crop of prospects. Perhaps the more accurate term is “shallow draft.” Because while the high-level guys aren’t nearly as high-level as even, say, Aaron Ekblad, the number of guys who are seen as being on roughly the level of, say, Leon Draisaitl (that is, Draisaitl pre-McDavid-driven-scoring-binge) is more considerable than the gloomy anti-hype would leave you to believe.

Corey Pronman’s ranking of all the recent high-end picks tells the story pretty well: among top prospects in the last five years, he ranks Hischier the highest, just behind Mathew Barzal at No. 22. Pierre-Luc Dubois comes in at No. 23 before Patrick ranks 24th. But three more forwards — Windsor’s Gabriel Vilardi, Portland’s Cody Glass, and Owen Sound’s Nick Suzuki — are also in the 25-29 range.

That is, of course, one man’s opinion cultivated over seasons of observation (Bob McKenzie’s famous ranking system has those players sprinkled in this draft’s top-12 with a handful of other players) but it’s instructive, and in line with other analysis I’ve seen and heard. Any given team picking in the mid-teens won’t get a player who’s appreciably worse, potential-wise, than a guy taken in the top five or six. Or in fact, even the top three.

Which, hey, that’s not bad. It sets up just about any team to get a solid prospect, potentially as late as the early 20s. And if that’s where you end up, most teams take that happily. But it also tells you a lot about why so many teams have been making noise about their mid-teens first-rounder being available “for the right price;” these aren’t huge difference-makers by any stretch of the imagination, even in comparison with other mid-teens picks in recent years, but it’s not like any of these kids are obviously bad or anything.

(As an aside: One area where teams are most definitely getting better is in drafting. The things they seem to value in higher-end guys coming into the draft is more in line with what actually drives success in the NHL: skating, skills, and hockey IQ, as opposed to physicality, size, and intangibles. You don’t always see that type of evaluation in, say, time-on-ice distribution or free agent acquisition, but scouting staffs are for the most part getting a lot smarter.)

Simply put: This is not the 1999 draft class, arguably the worst one ever. That year produced just eight players who played at least 800 games in the league; 1998 had 21, 2000 gave the league 15. But it’s also not a draft of the quality seen in the past few years either.

So I wouldn’t go around getting too hyped up about your team getting such-and-such a prospect it they happens to be picking. But a good chunk of this draft’s first round are going to be NHLers for a while, and that’s the whole point of drafting outside the top 10 to begin with.

Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All statistics via Natural Stat Trick unless otherwise noted.)