#but the wings are turned inside out and upside down and overall not functional

[sarcki]

That one scene from mlp:fim where angel bunny is a fucking snitch but it’s bill possessing Ford

“I study anomalies! I wanna marry Fiddleford!”

Meanwhile, Ford is in the mindscape absolutely freaking out

[voidgriff]

𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋 𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖕'𝖘 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 ⇢ griffin beck

 hello !!  i’m    lava...  18,  mst,  any  pronouns, you  know  the  deal.  here’s  a  bit  about  miss  griffin,  our  local  wolf  sheep!  i’m  banking  on  plotting  with  every  single  one  of  ya’ll  and  i’m  easiest  to  reach  via  discord  so...  enjoy  the  read  it’s  way  too  long  sorry

 first  and  foremost,  here  are  the  basics  about  griffin:  20,  cis  female,  she/her,  fourth  year  criminal  justice  student, client  coordinator  at  foxglove  florists,  guitarist,  closeted  lesbian,  and  melanie’s  roommate  (before  she  croaked). 

griffin  was�� born  and  raised  in  manhattan  to  parents  who  didn’t  know  how  to  function  and  wore carhartt  overalls.  they  weren’t  entirely  well  off,  but  were  the  type  of  family  to  always  try  to  keep  fresh  flowers  on  the  dining  table  and  have  game  nights  with  their  friends.  truly,  a  young  griffin  loved  her  life.  she  was  treated  good,  her  parents  were  loving,  her  surprise  younger  brother  was  cute.

(tw:  drugs,  cults)  that’s  all  until  she  turned  nine. the  b  in  beck  stood  for  bankrupt. of  course,  the  quick  solution  for  griffin’s  father  was  to  join  a  cult.  classic,  right?  a  man  on  the  subway  coerced  him  into  joining,  saying  that  they’d  take  care  of  all  of  the  beck  family’s  financial  and  spiritual  problems.  the  family  stayed  in  the  cult  for  five  years,  dabbling  in  drugs  (starting  at  age  twelve  for  griffin),  praying  to  a  god  they’d  never  heard  before,  and  all  that  jazz.  they  were  pretty  content.  i  mean,  they  were  all  brainwashed  into  believing  they  were  living  the  life  they  were  supposed  to.  however,  a  bad  acid  trip  made  mama  beck  realize  that  the  cult  wasn’t  so  great  after  all  (she  was  right,  finally).  days  later,  she  took  her  two  children  in  a  stolen  car  and  floored  it  to  a  new  apartment  in  queens  that  didn’t  have  dining  table  flowers  or  carhartt  overalls. 

and...  then  came  the  blame.  griffin  was  helpless,  just  a  kid  who  had  her  childhood  flipped  upside  down  and  missed  her  dad.  having  no  other  logical  reason,  mama  beck  started  to  blame  griffin  for  everything  that  happened.  the  fact  her  husband  wasn’t  around,  their  bankruptcy,  the  cult,  all  of  it.  naturally,  griffin  got  angry.  she  rebelled  against  her  mom,  using  high  school  as  her  escape.  at  school,  she  realized  people  had  normal  lives:  no  cult,  nothing  like  that,  and  griffin  fucking  longed  for  it.  she  got  to  know  everyone  she  could  (stoners,  cheerleaders,  nerds,  the  works)  and  found  comfort  in  their  stories.  she  learned  from  them,  most  importantly.

now  in  college,  griffin  feels  like  the  world  is  in  her  hands.  she  finally  fled  every  dark  entity  in  her  past  and  with  the  help  of  the  info  she  learned  in  high  school,  reinvented  herself  to  become  someone  she’s  finally  satisfied  with.  when  asked  about  her  past,  she  lies.  it’s  what  she  has  to  do  to  live  the  life  she  wants.  instead  of  starting  her  teenage  years  off  in  a  cult,  others  learn  that  she  lived  the  simpler  life  in  said  manhattan  apartment  up  until  moving  to  illinois.  there’s  no  mom  or  brother  in  her  picture,  just  a  dad  who  would  do  anything  and  everything  for  his  favorite  daughter.  that’s  how  it  always  should�� have  been,  isn’t  it?  instead  of  an  actual  flesh  bottle  of  hate,  griffin  comes  across  as  happy  and  loving,  taking  others  who  need  help  under  her  wing.  while  she  tries  to  seem  care  free,  she  monitors  every  single  one  of  her  own  movements.  every  choice  she  makes  is  meaningful  and  there’s  no  way  in  hell  anybody  will  learn  a  single  thing  about  her  past  (or  sexuality!)  on  her  watch.  she’s  a  meme  queen,  really,  drawing  memes  in  her  planner    instead  of  inspirational  quotes.  she  knows  how  to  play  more  meme-y    songs  on  her  guitar  than  not,  but  this  side  isn’t  unlocked  until  you    generally  get  to  know  her.

even  though  griffin  presents  herself  this  way,  there’s  still  a  much  darker  side  to  her:  the  void.  yeah,  void.  like,  it’s  a  whole  different  person.  of  course  griffin  couldn’t  patch  herself  up  entirely.  there’s  still  a  hole  in  her  being  that  she  can’t  fill  with  whiskey  and  lukewarm  coffee.  even  though  she  generally  comes  across  as  happy,  there  are  days  when  she  sincerely  can’t  take  hold  of  herself  and  she’s  just  empty.  void  of  all  emotion.  all  that.  it  comes  out  at  all  the  worst  times  and  she  tends  to  be  a  bit  of  a…  lifeless  bitch  when  it  does.  rather  than  void  just  being  an  emotion,  it’s  really  a  whole  different  persona  for  her.  she  has  no  control  of  it,  really.  picture  like…  robbie  shapiro  as  griffin  and  rex  as  void.  some  relationship  like  that.  just  watch  out.

and  some  extra  bits:

pinterest  board !!

wanted  connections !!

griffin: fun  loving  and  as  laid  back  as  you  can  be.  still  dressing  how  your  father  wants,  but  throwing  in  bright  colors  and  shoes  that  have  seen  better  days.  always  laughing  and  smiling,  the  longing  to  get  to  know  more  people  without  giving  them  information  in  return.  plastering  memes  on  your  walls  to  make  yourself  smile  after  a  long  day  and  making  tik  toks  with  friends.  wearing  fancy  perfume  to  go  to  the  grocery  store  because  you  know  it’ll  make  the  cashier  happy,  having  one  too  many  white  claws  and  throwing  your  shoe  across  a  crowded  party.  picking  up  the  ugliest  blazers  at  the  thrift  store  to  give  them  a  home.  certain  songs  bringing  up  bad  memories  and  not  feeling  like  talking  to  your  friends  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  keeping  the  extra  buttons  and  movie  stubs  because  you  know  you’ll  need  them  in  case  you  forget  yourself.

void: radio  static  interrupted  by  an  emergency  signal.  ignoring  a  hurricane  warning  and  simply  bringing  in  the  outdoor  furniture.  letting  the  tap  run  until  the  bathtub  overflows.  smoking  a  pack  a  day  just  to  feel  warm  inside.  a  king  not  flinching  as  he  watches  someone  get  decapitated.  feeling  like  you’re  nothing  more  than  the  skeleton  inside  you.  crying.  sleeping  on  the  floor  instead  of  your  bed  because  you  feel  like  its  what  you  deserve.  burning  yourself  with  a  cigarette  for  the  hell  of  it.  wearing  clothes  from  your  dirty  laundry  hamper  instead  of  something  from  your  clean  closet.  getting  on  a  bus  and  not  knowing  which  stop  you’ll  get  off  at.  nosebleeds  you  just  can’t  seem  to  stop.

[starrystellars]

land of gods and monsters | chapter one

summary: steve's life gets turned upside-down when he meets a mysterious woman on a dark alley, right after getting beaten up to the ground. after dramatic events, he gets tangled up into a web of criminals, drugs and life-changing events. pre-serum!steve x mob!reader

warnings: language, violence, overall dark stuff. painfully long descriptive writing. 

word count: 3.7k

a/n: hey!! the first chapter is finally here; sorry for the wait folks. life has been interesting for a while and i only now could come back to writing like i used to. sorry for bad spelling and spacing, i have no beta reader and i wrote this in a splurge of inspiration. sorry for the lack of action in this chapter; i promise shit is going down in the next one lmao :D well, enjoy my loves!! ps. remember to check out the prequel! u can also ask to be on my taglist!!

PREQUEL

1936

It had been a miracle. The police officers had found him lying in a deep puddle of dirt, white skin vividly purple under the glimmering street lights. Fragile features of the boy had almost made outlookers think he had already passed to the other side, probably for days at a time, if the police officers hadn't found a faint heartbeat from the sickly body that was lying on their hands. Blue-tinted lips, and skin so transparent you could've seen the veins dancing underneath it, almost got the best officer on the team fooled, and no wonder. It was almost impossible for the boy to be alive in such rough conditions, but there was something in him, that wanted desperately to stay alive; a will so strong that not even a higher power could rip it away.

It had taken a good two days in the recovery wing for the blonde boy to finally come back to his senses. The hit on his head was so bad that the nurses had actually expected him not to even remember what happened, nor to be able to function like a normal person for at least a good while. However, the little fighter had proved himself wrong the second he stopped staring at his eyelids, almost jumping up on his feet with a loud gasp that escaped between his blue tinted lips. With a fractured jaw and a broken nose, he looked like an absolute mess, but was more than good to stand up, and get back home after those crucial days inside of the sterilized walls. On the outside, he tried to give all the worried nurses a weak smile, blushing just a bit from all the attention he was getting, but in reality he just desperately wanted to hide from the curious eyes that were assigned to look after him. He really wasn't ready to accept the help -- nor he could actually afford it for that matter. The Great Depression had affected his family, just like every other ol' American household, and after the better half of his parents had died, it was almost impossible to keep up with everything he had to pay for. Being a complete idiot was not a good thing to add on the long list of already existing loans, and he was completely aware of that. However, he couldn't help but to follow his heart, that always led him on to dangerous situations, as he tried to save others from all the evil in the world.

The whole way back to Brooklyn was dreadful at best. A limp and a bunch of broken bones didn't ease his way, and for the first time ever, Steve thought he would get caught while sneaking into the creaking subway of the New York City. Most of the times, he and his best friend, Bucky, were quick enough to run into the cars without being noticed, but this time, a complete wreck of a boy got more curious eyes than he had wished. It took all of his willpower not to wince every step he took, while trying not to lean too much on any of his limbs, just to avoid crashing onto the ground and start crying like a child. It didn't help at all, that he was desperately out of his mind, trying to go through the flashing memories of the night he had passed out on that alley. The warmth that flushed on his pale cheeks every single time he thought about the woman, and her soft gaze, was distracting at best, but still couldn't take away the physical pain that he was enduring the whole subway-ride. After an hour of gruesome traveling, he found himself staring, with relieved eyes, at the tall, wooden, stairs that looked like a passage to heaven. Bright rays of the early morning sun were almost blinding him, as the gaze of his blue irises tried their best to adjust for the dusty air, clearly calculating would climbing up to the apartment be a good idea after all. "Steve! Where the hell have you been?" A familiar voice made the boy turn around automatically, ocean blue eyes instantly locking with the brown orbs of his very best friend. The usual playful smirk, that always was loosely hanging on Bucky's lips, had changed into a worried frown, as he was trying to come up with a collective question to get some information about what had happened. He was clearly stressed, running fingers through his neatly slicked back hair, looking his best friend up and down. "I tried to search for you everywhere," Bucky almost groaned, tilting his head to the side just slightly, as he took another step closer. "You don't even know how stressed out ma has been, when you didn't show up for dinner two days ago." Steve couldn't help but to let out a deep sigh, lowering his gaze to the ground like an abused puppy. His head couldn't comprehend anything, even though he was for sure that nothing was, per say, wrong to begin with. The memories from the night he got beaten up to the curb were blurry, and Steve wasn't even sure how he ended up in a situation like that. It was unusual that the only clear image he had in his mind was of the mysterious woman, who somehow had given him more hope than anyone else before. Maybe he was just starstruck. "Look, there's not too much to say," Steve mumbled under his breath, the sound hitching in his throat from all the dryness. It was almost unnatural to speak, after so long for being silent, and he immediately regretted being weak in front of Bucky. Even when Steve knew that his best friend wouldn't judge, nor pressure, him about anything, he hated to feel pitied and belittled. It had always been like that, no matter what the circumstance. Slightly shaking his head, Steve turned to face the stairs of faith once again, taking a first step away from his best friend with a mind that was running ten laps a second. He could physically feel Bucky's stare burn a hole on his back, but at that point he didn't give a time for the thought, as he kept on climbing up. Bucky, on the other hand, stood on his ground, watching how his best friend tried to play off his weaknesses, almost tripping over on his feet while clearly wincing in pain every step he took. Over the years, he had learnt to know Steve to be pretty stubborn, sometimes painfully so, but the injuries were way too much this time to be unnoticed. Usually Bucky tried his best to let his lifelong friend to be, because he knew that acting out was something he loved to do and even had to do to keep up those high emotional walls. This time, he just couldn't stand to watch him almost fall apart in front of him like that. "C'mon now," Bucky let out a deep sigh, as he decided to catch up on the smaller boy. He had to almost take hold of Steve, as soon they both reached the top of the stairs, since it highly looked like the blonde boy was about to fall backwards and break his neck. "Listen, maybe I could stay the night? I stole one of those magazines with comic strips on them, and I think the new series is something you'd like. We can just have fun and not talk, if that's what you want?" Steve couldn't help but to admire his friend’s determination, but it still felt bad having to be babied like that. It had been extremely hard for Steve to accept help after his mother had passed, even though he knew that the Barnes family just wanted the best for him. Sometimes it was just way too hard to accept that things were going bad -- especially since Steve knew how hard the times were for his best friends' family too. Without a word to his best friend, Steve opened the door to the dim apartment, stepping inside to his own lonely bubble. Right after the door shut with a bang, he allowed his weak body to slide down onto the floor with a soft whimper. The once warm and welcoming apartment had turned into a trap; cold and moldy, old memories hanging dangerously fragile on the peeling wallpaper. A once beautiful atmosphere was ruined and ripped to pieces, and Steve couldn't help but to think how much it would take to build it up again. As those blue orbs of his were covered, once again, by heavy eyelids, he couldn't help but to wonder how could the room around him be so chilly during such a warm spring day. /////   It had taken a long time to get used to living alone. After years of looking after his mother, her passing had left a human-sized void inside of his fragile heart. Maybe he should've anticipated her passing; she was a nurse after all, working in such conditions that were hard for even grown men to comprehend. The woman was a superhero in Steve's eyes, and he had always looked up to his dear mother- she could do no wrong. She had taught Steve everything; how to survive in a big city and how to take care of the house, but most importantly, she had taught him all the morals he needed. It was one of the many reasons why he had the urge to help everyone, and fight for justice, and so many times his late mother had joked that he'd make a good police officer in the future. Except it was physically impossible. His ongoing sickness, and all the weaknesses that came with it, had always been sort of belittled in the Rogers family, since Steve's mother had desperately tried to teach her son that a physical form didn't matter too much. It was the personality that made a person worthy, and it was something to always keep in mind. However, in Steve's case, he was constantly struggling with fever and other illnesses, and most of the doctors had claimed he wouldn't see his twentieth birthday, breaking the spirit of a young man. One of the hardest things that he had to do while getting accustomed to his new lifestyle, had to be getting along with daily tasks. Yes, Steve was helpful and always there for his mother, but she basically ran the household, so he had barely actually learned any practical things. Every single day she had made sure that her son had something to eat, and somehow kept the apartment clean no matter what. Even after getting sick, she still tried to tidy up her surroundings to make the house more presentable, not listening to Steve's complaints about how she should've gotten some rest. After getting used to that kind of treatment, it was hard to manage for himself, and even going to the store was a job on its own. Somehow he needed to mentally prepare himself, counting all the coins just in case he would accidentally live over his limits, going through the shopping list at least ten times just in case he wouldn't forget anything. This time was no exception -- he did all in his willpower to make everything as complicated as possible, only stepping out of his apartment when he had made sure that he would not forget that thin piece of paper on the kitchen counter. The breezy air against his pale skin was refreshing, since after bumping into Bucky, he hadn't gotten much fresh air. Still feeling a bit dizzy and weak from the hospital trip, he had decided that it was best to just stay hidden for a while, and not take any of the pity. At the back of his mind, Steve had decided to avoid his best friend just enough to get some space. Even when he cared about Bucky a lot, he needed to take a step back just every once in a while. Inseparable or not. The dusty morning air made Steve cough just a little, as he stepped down the crowded road towards the market hall. The allergy season was catching up, and he could already feel his asthma starting to act up, once again. The dirty New York air was one of the worst things that he could think about for his condition, but even if he was given the choice, he wouldn't have moved anywhere else. Home was always home. He desperately needed to be surrounded by something familiar, no matter what, as if it was the only thing that gave him some form of stability and safety. Somehow, the dirty streets and noisy people had became part of his life, did he enjoy it or not. Hazy atmosphere of the city had captivated Steve's attention fully, as he squinted to look up at the tall buildings, and all the people he could see hanging around on their balconies. It was something he really loved to do; to study people during their everyday tasks, trying to save the memories on his retinas for later as a reference for his art. Playing with colours and shapes was always something that he loved to do, and art really was close to his beating heart. Even when he knew that all the sketches he had done were not the best ones in the world, he still enjoyed it and considered getting a job on that field some beautiful day. Lost in his daydreams, Steve was completely unaware of the situation around him. He was truly blind to the fact, that people were moving away from something, that was moving quickly amongst the people, trying to shove everyone off their way. The blonde boy didn't seem to hear how a mass of people mutually groaned at this person, who was either running away from something or just really late from an important task. Unfortunately, thanks to Steve's incapability to be aware of his surroundings, he soon felt like bumping into something, or someone, that sent him flying backwards on the pavement. The boy groaned in pain, body still on fire from his recovery process, as he felt someone lean over his very useless body. He tried to squint, as the sun was almost burning his eyes off, but all he could see was a figure that belonged to a woman. Oh god, of course. Steve wasn't known to be good with women; especially when it came down to awkward situations, and to be so close to a girl who literally ran into him, was one of the most embarrassing situations of his life. Yes, he had went on dates when Bucky had literally forced him into doing so, and all of them ended up tragically, but colliding into a girl and falling down? What was he going to do. "Oh my lord, I'm so sorry," an apologizing yelp was let out in the air by the girl, who had kneeled next to the boy with a concerned look on her face. It was still hard to see for Steve, who tried his best to avoid the sunshine that was almost bullying his eyes, but only the sound of her was enough to get Steve baffled. He knew her. For some reason, Steve found her face familiar as ever; like she had appeared in a dream long forgotten somewhere in the past. Even when it was almost impossible to place the pieces together in his spinning head, the soft touch of the girl's hand against his own sparked up a memory that was pushed way back in his head. As the boy dusted himself off and raised his gaze, the realization hit him right across the face like a lightening. He couldn't believe who was standing right in front of him, as Steve took a better look at the girl's delicate features. It was her. After days of wondering was all he saw just a big fever dream, he finally got to understand that it wasn't just some reflection he had seen while lying half-dead with a severe concussion. The situation was so completely out of place, that Steve couldn't help but stare at the girl right in front of him with big eyes, forgetting completely that they were on a public space. It could've been considered rude, but his clear confusion was just way too adorable to count as a stalkerish action. He just couldn't stop himself from studying her clearly strong aura, the soft curve on her lips, and the way her eyes were filled with life. She was radiating with such energy, that Steve couldn't still believe she was true. "Are you okay?" The girl asked, looking fairly concerned, as she gently placed her hands on both of his forearms. Steve couldn't help but to automatically flinch at this action, it being rather an open gesture, and he clearly wasn't used to that. With an apology, the girl quickly retrieved her hands to herself, clearly taken aback of her own actions, as she clearly looked phased. Steve couldn't do much more than to nod at her question, clearly making the girl ease up a little, as she tilted her head to the side with a smirk playing on her painted lips. "Good, amazing. Wonderful," the tone those words slipped out from the girls lips made Steve's eyebrows grow together, as he watched how the lady in front of him was looking over her shoulder. The concerning look on her face was telling a lot, but the boy wasn't really following. He was mesmerized by the girl, who had already stolen his heart and ran away with it a long time ago. "M-ma'am, is there something wrong?" It was hard for Steve to form a courage to let out the words, and he even had to cough a little to get his voice to be heard, but the girl didn't seem to care about it. She looked unphased as ever, giving the boy a slight smile, before peeking over the boy's shoulder, a playful smirk growing more visible on her face. It was like she saw something amusing, but there was something in her eyes that messaged that something wasn't right. "I, uhh.. I'd like to chat, but I really gotta run," she flashed a clear fake smile at the boy, gaze blinking under the blinding rays of the sun, without breaking eye-contact with the skinny boy right in front of her. "Take care."

The last words were left lingering in the air, sweet as honey, and as soft as a blowing wind on a sunkissed meadow. Steve could feel the touch of her fingers still holding onto his shaky arms, as he turned to gaze at her quick disappearance, way too late for her light-speed run. It was like she vanished into thin air, leaving only desperation behind. Heavy voices of all the people on the street almost crawled into his ear, as he realised the world around him had continued to live again, after such disturbance. Before turning around, baffled as ever, he noticed something bulky at the end of his feet; sticking out like it was the seventh wonder of the world. Blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, as he lowered down to pick up a brown suitcase, color already chipping off from the sides of its molded form. It was actually a slight struggle for him to pick up something heavy like that, grunting painfully at the action that caused his old wounds to ache. Squinting his eyes, Steve realised something green peeking between a slot of the case, but before he could realise what was going on, he heard a loud yell behind his small form. "Lower the case and put your hands up!" The sound startled Steve, who turned around, just in time to catch the gun that was firmly pointed at him from a safe distance. Messy, blonde locks, were covering his view just enough, but he could see the officer's strict face eyeing him up and down. The moment felt heavy. A wrong move and he would be cold on the ground. That's when he dropped the case. His whole life slowed down, like a film that was dragging along the player incorrectly. Voices and pictures were blurring together, as he could feel his heart pounding in his chest so hard it could’ve probably physically broke him. The police officers let out a unison indecipherable yell, that Steve couldn't catch up on, as an older officer literally leaped over to him, ready to detain him with clear force. Right before his head came in contact with the ground, Steve could finally realise why he was tackled to the ground, helpless and without a question. Somehow, he didn't register what had happened when he accidentally let go of the luggage in his hands, but it was way worse than he had originally wondered.  It was double the times worse. You see, he could have never guessed that he'd find himself standing in a pile of freshly pressed dollars, little to no information whose money it actually was. Steve was framed, and there was nothing he could do about the fact how guilty he looked like, standing there like a deer in the headlights. The police had little to no interest in listening to his soft whimpers, as they pulled back his arms to cuff his thin wrists behind Steve's back. His small form was nothing against the literal force of three separate cops, who casually held him on his stomach, as he tried to squirm away like a worm, only scratching new holes onto his beige coat. Just as his head was being shoved against the rough pavement by one of the police, he realised what was going on. It literally hit him.

[gtamobilevvrt0m-blog]

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[flauntpage]

Norm Powell, Jakob Poeltl and the Young Raptors Primed for Bigger Roles

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports Canada.

Over the last few seasons, the Toronto Raptors have dedicated the backend of their roster to young, developing players. While other contenders and pseudo-contenders will look for ring-chasers on veteran minimum deals or employ a less top-heavy salary structure, Masai Ujiri and company have opted to keep a handful, and sometimes more, of youthful pieces. This past year, the Raptors took that to the extreme, employing seven players who were on their first contracts.

The logic is strong, assuming the organization's ability to identify and grow talent is as good as it believes. Operating this way accomplishes three main objectives: It increases upside, since at least some of the unproven prospects would ostensibly have higher ceilings than known veteran commodities; it provides an inexpensive source of minutes (the seven youngsters and the No. 23 pick will combine to make just $15.6 million next year, or an estimated 15.5 percent of the salary cap to take up 53.3 percent of the roster spots); and it provides a pivot foot if the Raptors opt to change course entirely and tear things down, creating a base of young talent to begin rebuilding with.

The different purposes the youth could serve can confuse just how important each piece may be in 2017-18. If the Raptors roll things back, most of the youngsters stand to provide inexpensive depth and continue on their individual development paths, some with D-League time with Raptors 905. If the Raptors go the other direction and take a step or two back, all seven—plus the No. 23 pick—could see heavy minutes in the rotation out of the gate. Yes, even Bruno Caboclo. Regardless of direction, this offseason stands to be a big one for the crop of development pieces.

That holds especially true for two who figure to be major pieces in either build-or-break scenario next year.

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Norman Powell

The 2015 second-round pick has ascended beyond break-glass-in-case-of-emergency utility player. In whatever the Raptors do this offseason, Powell stands to figure prominently. If the team was to aggressively tear everything down, there's a scenario in which Powell winds up Toronto's best player and offensive focal point. More realistic—and optimistic, if you're inclined—scenarios still see Powell's role expanding.

While the recently-turned 24-year-old struggled at times this year (by his own admission), Powell's long since proven too good to be the fourth wing in a rotation. He struggled to maintain a high level of defensive intensity as his offensive role grew, and a consistent change in role description made finding the right balance tough. By year's end, he began to rediscover the form that made him a popular spot-starter, and for the second year in a row, head coach Dwane Casey turned to Powell to fundamentally swing a playoff series.

Powell is by no means a finished product. The search for offense and defense at the same time will continue, and his offseason will likely focus on sharpening some of the offensive tools he'll need if his usage is going to continue to climb. As a fulcrum of units that don't include DeMar DeRozan, Powell needs to continue to grow as a playmaker off the bounce—his assist percentage actually declined this season, and because he's not an elite passer, opponents try to cut him off on his way to the rim (his finishing improved slightly but is still an area that needs work, too).

Powell is one of Toronto's most fascinating pieces. Photo by Credit: Anthony Gruppuso-USA TODAY Sports

The other primary tool Powell could grow that would help open up his driving game is his 3-point shot, something pretty much every Raptor should be focused on this year. Coming out of UCLA having hit just 31.4 percent of 354 total 3-point attempts from the shorter line, Powell worked tirelessly as a rookie to retool his jumper, shortening his ascent and simplifying his mechanics. The returns have been encouraging—across Summer League, preseason, the D-League, NBA regular season, and NBA playoffs, Powell has now shot 405 threes, making 35.8 percent of them. The stabilization point for threes is very high (around 750 attempts), but there's now more evidence that Powell's a more capable NBA 3-point shooter than he is an incapable NCAA 3-point shooter.

That's encouraging, and if that shot continues to improve, Powell will be a more dangerous weapon either leading younger lineups or spotting up alongside the team's stars. Whatever the case, his defense and play as a secondary attacker are such that Powell should be a prominent member of the rotation next year, even if he still comes off the bench. Same goes for...

Jakob Poeltl

Poeltl, the No. 9 pick in the 2016 draft, impressed in a limited audition as a rookie this past season. He was not initially expected to figure into the team's short-term plans, but a late training camp injury to Lucas Nogueira opened the door, and the pair traded the backup center spot from there. Nogueira had a larger impact overall, but Poeltl took advantage of an ill-timed Nogueira slump around the All-Star break and never gave the job back. Given the difference in investment and years of control involved, Poeltl will probably have the inside track on the backup spot entering camp this year.

In fact, Poeltl may figure to play an even bigger role than that if the Raptors move Jonas Valanciunas for salary relief. That's probably only a consideration in the scenario in which Serge Ibaka stays, as Ibaka's better suited at the five at this point, and employing four intriguing centers, two of them with a large salary and one who was a lottery pick, would seem like a poor allocation of resources.

As a rookie, Poeltl protected the rim fairly well despite his slender frame (opponents shot 48.3 percent at the rim when he was defending there), was an elite offensive rebounder, and showed some really nice instincts at both ends of the floor. He reads the game exceptionally well, and depending on the metric you prefer, he graded out pretty well overall (he had the most Win Shares per-48 minutes of any rookie who played at least 500 minutes, though Real Plus-Minus was down on him). Young bigs usually take some time to develop, and if Poeltl can come back as a sophomore having added strength in his lower half and improved his ball skill some, he should at least be able to provide steady-to-good backup minutes.

Lucas Nogueira

The 24-year-old Brazilian remains an incredibly intriguing prospect in his own right. He had some of the best advanced statistics on the team, or of any big man in the league, with his ability to protect the rim, finish on the roll, and pass the ball standing out as unique on this roster. He has some range, too. Nogueira is still young and, if not in Toronto, deserves a longer look somewhere. If he gets it, the biggest thing he'll need to show is consistency, and his focus this offseason will likely be on functional strength and conditioning.

Wright and Nogueira could be in line for more minutes next season. Photo by Dan Hamilton-USA TODAY Sports

Behind Nogueira and Poeltl is Pascal Siakam, whose role is completely dependent on the team's direction. Retain Ibaka, and it's hard to figure where Siakam may get more than spot minutes around larger and smaller configurations. If Ibaka walks, though, Siakam could find himself starting again. He started 38 games as a rookie, showing some encouraging skills but proving to be overmatched, as one would expect from a somewhat raw rookie thrust into that spot.

The biggest thing Siakam has to improve is his feel for the game, both in terms of pace and space. His rookie errors were crimes of commission, which is encouraging. He's an active rebounder, runs the floor extremely well, and flashed range out to the 3-point line in his time in the D-League. Siakam needs more time and more reps, and he'll probably be the most interesting of the group to watch at Summer League in July.

Like Siakam, Caboclo remains in the "keep improving everything" stage of development. It's been three years, sure, but Caboclo still only has roughly the experience of a college sophomore, and under the radar, he's taken some nice strides. Continuing to fill out a tantalizing frame and turn a pretty 3-point stroke into actual success will be his primary focuses, and he'll likely agree to take a fourth turn at Summer League (teams can only require a player to go three times).

Joining Siakam, Poeltl, and Caboclo in Las Vegas (Powell would seem unlikely to attend) should be point guards Fred VanVleet and Wright, both of whom also have roles up in the air for next year. If Kyle Lowry and Cory Joseph are both back, it will be a disappointing turn for a pair of interesting prospects who have had success in limited opportunity. Whatever happens with the team's two lead guards, Wright and VanVleet will continue fighting for the third-string spot, back-up minutes, or, in a long-shot scenario, the starting spot.

The biggest thing either can do might be to continue to show they can play in two-point guard lineups. VanVleet might be the best non-Lowry shooter on the roster but needs to add strength to improve his finishing and make him more versatile defensively. Wright, meanwhile, needs to continue developing his 3-point shot, while also adding enough size to make the Raptors question whether he could actually slot in as a two-guard regularly, as he did at times down the stretch.

Whichever direction the Raptors go, this figures to be a monumental offseason for some of their development pieces. That's kind of self-evident—every offseason is a big one for young players. But with the Raptors at a serious fork in the road, the back half of the roster needs to approach their work with the mentality that they'll be fighting for scraps in the rotation or fighting for their long-term place as a building block moving forward. In either case, there's too much interesting young talent for there not to be tough competition of some sort.

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