#i saw 'six minute read' at the top though thats not a surprise

[vriskarlmarx]

hmm yeah this is pretty shallow

let's see why you guys are all mad at the catgirl who leaked the no-fly list

[bugmomwrites]

Animal Crossed Lovers (Tamaki Amajiki)

Alrighty so I haven't put any finished work on here in a hot minute, that’s my bad. ANYWHO my mom got me ACNH as an early birthday gift since my birthday (April 5th) just missed the supposed quarantine cutoff date for our area (7th). I may be be stuck inside while everything’s closed, but hey- at least the island of Escapism hardly rests 😉

(SW-3129-0651-5422)

Tamaki Amajiki x GN! Reader

Tamaki was never one to play video games, but he had to admit there was just something...soothing about Animal Crossing that melted much of his anxiety away. Nejire had initially preordered a copy for his birthday weeks ago, but her friend who worked at the local (s/n) (who he may or may not have been crushing on since their second year after they joined them at lunch one day) was able to pull a couple strings and get it on the fourth of March instead of the twentieth. Of course he had no idea, but he was so stunned when he opened it that it didn’t even occur to him that the game wasn’t even out yet until Mirio had reminded him. He didn’t question it though- his friend group was one wild card after another, so he guessed he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

He was thrilled, and just the fact that no one else had a copy yet made it feel all the more personal. Of course he knew in sixteen days it would be all anybody ever talked about, but for the time being it felt like the game, the little world he had created in the past few days with its gentle music and soft, wholesome theme, was his and his alone. The fact that it was a gift from his friends made it all the more special, and even if he had a hectic day at school he could turn on the console and water pretend flowers on a pretend island, and for those few moments, all was right with the world.

He was pulling weeds to sell to Timmy for bells when his screen pinged in the corner that made his blood run cold.

(Gamertag) is online

Playing: Animal Crossing New Horizons

That’s right, you had friended him on the switch after realizing all his friends had one, and now with a fourth person they could have a full team online. Mirio has suggested everyone exchange codes, and you had taken the liberty of showing him how to punch in the code and adding yourself while he sat there trying not to melt into his seat at how excited you got, or how nice you smelled up close. You had passed it back with a beaming grin, telling him you couldn’t wait to do co-ops. At the time he could only nod, speechless as the rest of his friends made idle chatter until the bell rung, and everyone scurried back to class.

He quickly realized he had left the terminal gate open when he was poking around the various features, learning about what each thing does in game. He tried sprinting to the airport to close the gates, and he made it to the dock before a big green banner flashed across his screen reading “you have a visitor!”

Out of the threshold popped your avatar, and for a moment he was grateful he could hide behind a screen. He wanted to be mad, upset even, that you had wandered onto his digital sanctuary, but couldn’t find it in himself because, then again, it was you.

The Nookphone in the top left corner buzzed to life, and he opened up the chat log with shaky hands. In a cutesy, pastel speech bubble was your message, and he wondered how something that was once so therapeutic to him could do a 180 and suddenly become the source of his anxiety.

G/T: Hello! Sorry to pop in unannounced, I hope you don’t mind^^

Tamaki felt his mouth go dry, reading it in your voice and after steadying his breathing, he painstakingly typed out a response.

Suneater: its ok.

G/T: It’s kinda hard to find others to play with when the game isn’t even released yet >~<

Suneater: Oh?

He should have known it was too good to be true. You were only visiting him because no one else was on yet. He sighed, trying to keep the dread from crawling back in before another note popped up.

G/T: The game doesn’t actually release until the first day of spring, but working at (s/n) has its perks. I saw the trailers and the hype and figured it would be the perfect game for you.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him upon reading that. So he wasn’t the last choice- rather, the game simply wasn’t out to the general public yet. But if that was the case, how did you also get a copy?

Suneater: thats nice of you

G/T: And then a little birdy told me you had a birthday coming up, so since I have a couple connections after I got my copy, I asked my manager if they’d set aside one more.

Suneater: you

Suneater: you were the one who helped get it early?

Boy did he feel stupid now. You worked at (s/n), (as you had literally just mentioned in your previous notes), Nejire got him a game that wasn’t out yet, you guys were all mutual friends- how did he not put two and two together?!

G/T: Yes lol that would be me^ you liking it so far? You picked a good name for the island too.

“Sunshine Island” may have seemed a little cliche to most people, but Tamaki had so many things in his life linked to it that by this point, it was just routine. Mirio was his sun in dark times. His nickname Suneater, even the sunflowers he had received from his parents for his birthday each year was tradition. He knew not everyone would see it the way he did, but to him, it was perfect, and he was definitely chuffed when he thought it up and punched it in for the first time.

To hear you loved it too sent a swell of pride through him, and he wondered if it was possible to love someone as much as he did just then.

Suneater: you really think so?

G/T: Absolutely

And with that, the two of you explored Sunshine Island together, he showed you his tent, the shops, and the little orchard of peaches he had arranged. You were impressed by the amount of detail and care that went into arranging everything, and asked if he’d be willing to help you with your island sometime, to which he obliged. 

You guys did some more walking, and he told you to feel free to shake theres and take a couple fruits with you. His native fruit was peaches, and in exchange you dropped a couple of your own fruits from your island on the ground for him to pick up so he could have more variety in his world.

G/T: There’s six different kinds, and each island is assigned one main type of fruit. the more you visit with friends, the more biodiversity you’ll get. Pretty cool right? I have some spare (F/N), and if you take and plant those, they'll grow and multiply!

His avatar hesitantly wandered over to the offering after yours stepped back a little to let him take them. Your generousity was surely appreciated, and even though you couldn't see it, he smiled softly before typing out a new message.

Suneater: Thank you. I’ll go plant those.

The game might have been synced up with real time, even getting darker after a certain hour- yet despite it being outside, neither one of you noticed just how much time had passed between all the bug catching, fishing, exploring and talking. When your screen loaded up a clock that read 2:54 AM, you blinked a few times, as if that would change the reading. But lo and behold, it was going for 3am on a school night, and you knew you both had to get to bed.

G/T: Ah beans its 3am, I gotta get to bed soon. Thanks for letting me hang out on your island, and sorry for keeping you awake >~<

Suneater: don't be sorry, i had a lot of fun. can we play together again sometime?

G/T: Of course! I can't wait to meet up again. Maybe we can visit my island next time? I should have those peaches planted by then, and you can teach me your ways, oh master landscaper.

Tamaki chuckled out loud at that, blushing, as he suddenly had a brilliant idea.

Suneater: That would be nice. Wait here a second.

He scurried off to a patch of flowers he had blooming, and with a shovel, picked up a few in your favorite color before making his way back over and dropping them in front of you.

Suneater: You can start by planting a few of these around your island. It is your favorite color, right?

Now it was your turn to blush as you picked up the (f/c) flowers he dropped in front of you, smiling like a goon at his burst of confidence. How he remembered your favorite color is beyond you, but hey- you weren’t complaining.

G/T: They’re perfect, thank you Tama!

Suneater: You're welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow?

G/N: You know it! Goodnight <3

And on that note you walked down to the airport, his avatar following close behind as if to see you off. It was a simple gesture, but appreciated nonetheless. Both of you powered down your switches for the night before plugging them in, and promptly hopping into your respective beds with racing hearts. It was the perfect end to your digital “date” and you couldn’t wait to log in again.

Thank you for reading! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The inbox is always open for future ideas, so don’t be afraid to drop in. 

Also gonna tag @katsukisprincess​ cause I mean...Animal Crossing and wholesome Tamaki fluff. ‘Nuff said.

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter One)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 3,480

Masterlist.

Luke’s blue eyes and Ashton’s hazel eyes were staring at me. I was used to their weird looks, but there was something in them I hadn’t seen before.

“Whatever it is, you might as well tell me before your eyes burst out of your heads,” I said while walking over to my desk.

“What are you talking about?” Ashton asked, a hitch in his voice giving him away.

“You both are staring at me, which usually means you have to tell me something. So come on,” I said, looking through some of the papers that were out.

“I told you she’d know,” Luke said making me laugh.

“Ugh fine. Estelle, stop being in teacher mode” Ashton teased making me laugh more.

I raised my hands up in surrender before turning to face them. I met Luke’s eyes and a shiver ran through me. I should have been used to it, but no matter how many times it happened in the three years we’ve been friends, it still took me by surprise.

“We’re going on a road trip and you’re coming with us,” Ashton said taking my eyes off of Luke.

“What? No I’m not,” I said shaking my head.

“Yes you are. You’re coming with us, Mikey, Cal, and Crystal. Oh, and you should really start packing because we leave tomorrow at six in the morning,” Luke said, an unexpected confidence in his tone..

“What? No, you two are kidding,” I argued, not believing them for a second.

They loved playing pranks on me and if this was their latest one, I had every intention of making them regret it.

“We aren’t. Completely serious. No pranks and no jokes,” Ashton said, his eyes lit up.

“For how long?” I asked, turning back to look at my calendar.

As much as I wanted to agree and let them sweep me away, I had lesson plans to prepare.

“Well, it’ll take us fourteen days to get there and then we’ll be at our final destination for three weeks,” Ashton said, moving his fingers as if he was counting midair.

“Es, we’ll get you back in time to prep for school. I promise,” Luke reassured, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

There was a calm that came over me with his touch. It made it impossible to not give into them.

“And what am I supposed to pack?” I asked, tilting my head back to look at Luke.

The smile that lit up his face met those ocean eyes and I was sold on whatever we were doing.

“Lots of summer clothes, some swimsuits, but also a couple things that are warmer for nights,” Luke said quietly, his fingers squeezing my shoulders.

“Well if I know where we’re going, I could pack properly,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

“Nope. That’s a secret. Now, remember what Luke said, but put some nicer clothes in there too,” Ashton said, giving me his thousand watt smile.

I rolled my eyes at him before looking back up at Luke. There was something in his eyes that made me melt into his touch even more.

“Get to packing little dove. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow,” he said, giving my shoulders another squeeze.

The blush came across my body from the pet name. It didn’t matter how many times he called me that, it still caused the same reaction. Ashton came over and gave me a quick hug. It felt like I was still in a trance when I heard them close my apartment door.

“Shit,” I mumbled before going to my hall closet door.

I pulled out my biggest suitcase and dragged it to my bedroom. The sound of my closet doors echoed against the walls. My wardrobe was still being transitioned to summer, but I had most of what I would need or at least, I hoped. My eyes wandered over the clothes before I pulled out my phone.

E: Crys, what the hell am I supposed to pack?

My fingers ghosted over my favorite white top, fond memories coming to mind. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

C: Plenty of shorts, tees and tanks, at least three swimsuits, some sundresses, some skirts, coverups, sneakers, sandals, and like one hoodie/sweater.

E: Oh my god. I’m guessing you won’t tell me where we’re going either?

C: Nope. Under strict instructions not to.

E: Damn it. Okay. I guess I’ll get packing then.

I sighed before tossing my phone onto my bed. I took the top I had been touching off the hanger and gently placed it on my shoulder.

“Only like forty more to go,” I said, my hands falling to my hips before getting started.

                                                         ➢➢➢

The blaring sound of my alarm woke me from the peaceful slumber I was in. I hit the button and checked the time. The red numbers flashed five in the morning. I pushed myself from my bed and headed to the kitchen. My finger pushed the start button on my espresso machine after placing a mug underneath it. My feet carried me to the bathroom for the shower I desperately needed. After ten minutes, I stepped out and got dressed in my comfy clothes for the drive. I quickly put my hair into a fishtail braid and went back to the kitchen. I added milk and ice to finish my iced mocha. I glanced down to check my watch. 5:20 A.M. I went to the fridge and pulled out the vanilla greek yogurt. After chopping up a banana, I started eating as quickly as I could so I would be ready in time. I checked my watch again. 5:40 A.M. I cleaned my dishes and went to my front door. The suitcase and backpack that I packed last night already by the door. I pulled on my gold sandals and black wide brimmed hat. Just as I was clasping the last sandal, the buzzer sounded.

“Ready Es?” Ashton’s voice crackled over the speaker.

“Yep. Come on up,” I said, finger pressing to let him up.

The sun was starting to peek through the linen curtains. I cracked my door for Ash before walking over my balcony window. I snapped a quick picture, the calm of the view washing over me. There was a part of me that just wished I could stare at the sunrise for an infinite amount of time, before I was brought back to the world around me.

“Let’s go Es,” Ashton said from behind me.

I walked back over to him and grabbed my backpack.

“Still not telling me?” I asked while locking up.

“Nope,” he said, giving me a wink over the shoulder before heading down to the elevator.

We left my apartment building, a gray Range Rover idling by the curb when we walked out. Ashton hauled my suitcase into the back while I opened the door.

“Good morning little dove,” Luke said after I opened the door.

“Good morning giraffe,” I said, crawling in.

I found myself between the window and Luke with Calum on his other side. Ashton climbed into the single seat in the back.

“And we’re off!” Michael cheered from the driver’s seat.

Crystal cheered from the passenger seat to encourage him even though it was early. Her phone was hooked up to the aux, making her the DJ for the first portion of our trip.

“Mike and Crystal are driving until noon, then Cal and Ash will take over for three hours,” Luke said once we pulled away.

He was reading from a notebook that had different times written in it.

“Do I get to do any driving?” I asked, testing him.

His laugh rang in my ears before I saw his smile.

“Maybe later, but you don’t know where we’re going so you’re gonna have to wait,” he said, nudging my shoulder.

I groaned before looking out the window. California was passing by and it was hard to believe that I was really doing this with them. My ears caught the bassline of Move On by Mike Posner. My head bobbed along to the song before Calum and I looked at each other. We moved in sync with the bassline, both of us appreciating it for exactly what it was. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when Calum tried dancing along. Luke looked at us like we were crazy before joining us in the groove. I caught Ashton filming us and gave him a wink. We laughed once the song was over.

                                                          ➢➢➢

Time was flying by. Luke was driving and I had a sleeping Ashton on my shoulder, Crystal nodding off next to him. I still had no idea where we were headed, but now that it was dark, it was harder to tell anyways. No matter how hard I tried to get it out of everyone, they wouldn’t tell me. I knew we had been driving for awhile, but there was no indication for how much longer we were going to be. I caught Luke’s eye in the rearview mirror. It was simple, but it made everything I was feeling more complicated. I tried ignoring and figuring out how I felt about Luke so many times. Each time, I came up with no concrete answers. What it always came down to was that he was one of my best friends and to jeopardize that because of some feelings wasn’t something I would do. My thoughts faded away when I heard the guitar from I Was Made For Loving You by Tori Kelly and Ed Sheeran. My eyes met brown this time, a strange feeling of understanding between me and Calum flooded my senses.

“It’s Crystal’s turn,” Calum said, breaking the moment between us.

Luke nodded.

“Let me find a gas station,” he said, eyes searching the signs to find one.

I adjusted a little so Ashton’s head wasn’t digging into my shoulder.

“Well, Estelle is my co-pilot because you lot keep hogging the passenger seat,” Crystal said, making me laugh.

“Ash,” I whispered, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Essie?” he asked, eyes still closed.

“I have to get up,” I said, threading my fingers through his hair.

“But you make such a good pillow,” he almost whined.

“I know. You can use my pillow if you want,” I offered, smiling down at him.

There was a fondness I felt for Ash in that moment. He looked so young and stress free when he was asleep. I ran my fingers through his hair one more time. Luke pulled into the gas station parking lot.

“Coffee Es?” Crystal asked while opening the door.

“You know it,” I said, getting out of my seat.

I put my pillow in Ashton’s lap and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. Crystal and I were the only ones that went inside.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom quick,” I said, heading to the back of the store.

I passed a rack of postcards making me stop instantly. Colorado landscapes and greetings from Colorado were everywhere. I went to the bathroom quick and picked one out. I grabbed a few snacks before heading back to the car. I put the postcard on the dash.

“We’re in Colorado,” I said getting Luke and Crystal’s attention.

“Shit. Okay, yeah,” Luke said, sighing a little now that his surprise was ruined.

“Luke, just tell her,” Crystal said, adjusting the seat a bit.

“Okay okay. Currently, we’re heading to St. Louis,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone.

“And I’m guessing that isn’t our final destination,” I said, taking a sip of the coffee Crystal got me.

“Nope. We’re in St. Louis for two days and then we’re off to Myrtle Beach for three days,” he said trailing off.

It was one of the many things Luke did when he wanted to keep things a surprise that drove me insane.

“Keep going,” I encouraged.

“Then in New York for four days,” he continued, the same trailing off happening.

“And then?” I asked, fully aware that there was more.

“We’re gonna be in Cape Cod for three weeks,” he said.

The excitement rushed through me causing me to turn around to look at Luke.

“You mean my number one place to visit?” I asked, thinking that I was dreaming.

“Yeah,” he said, a smirk on his face.

“Oh my god, Luke, this better not be a prank,” I said, my words coming out fast while I stared at him.

“Not a prank. I promise,” he said, holding out his pinkie.

I linked mine with his, the touch heating my skin. I turned back around, a giant grin on my face.

“DJ, please hit me with some jams,” Crystal joked, aux cord in hand.

“Well of course,” I responded, taking it from her and plugging my phone in.

It took me a moment before I found a song that fit the mood I was in. King Of the Clouds by Panic! At the Disco played through the speakers. I let the song wash over me, the words and vocals taking me away.

“I wanted to tell you when you texted yesterday, but Luke and Ash really wanted it to be a surprise,” Crystal said, bringing me back to reality.

“I’m glad it was a surprise though. It makes it that much better,” I said, unable to stop smiling.

“Look at them,” she whispered, turning the music down.

I looked in the rearview to see all of the boys asleep. Ashton had my pillow pressed against the window in the single seat while Luke, Calum, and Michael were lying on each other, their heads crooked into each other in different ways.

“They’ve gotta be used to sleeping in cars by now,” I said, looking over at her.

“You would think, but I know Mikey still struggles with falling asleep in cars. He always needs adjustment when he comes back,” she said, pushing her hair back.

“So does Luke. He usually stays at mine or makes me stay at his when he gets back because he hates being alone after tours,” I said, a small smile coming across my face.

“You sure that’s not because Luke has a thing for you?” she asked, taking me by surprise.

“What? Luke doesn’t have a thing for me,” I dismissed, waving my hand at her.

My heart had picked up when she said it, but I had to push it away.

“Estelle, you’re joking right? I’ve known that boy for awhile now. I’ve seen him go through love and heartbreak. I know when he’s into someone,” she said, her eyes glancing over at me.

“Crystal, I’m telling you, he isn’t into me. We’re best friends and that’s it. That’s all we are now and all we’re ever going to be,” I said, a hint of frustration in my voice.

I had already convinced myself of this. As much as I wanted to believe Crystal, I couldn’t. That road lead to far more hope and rejection than I was able to handle.

“But the way he looks at you-”

“He looks at me like he’s always looked at me. Besides, if he did, the feelings wouldn’t be mutual,” I lied.

The words felt like they were burning my tongue as I said them. I turned to look out the window, my head full of daydreams that the smallest part of me wished would come true.

                                                        ➢➢➢

“Okay Ash, overnight shift,” Calum said after pulling into a gas station.

Calum’s voice woke me up, causing me to move my head off of Luke’s shoulder.

“Who’s my co-pilot?” he asked while getting out of the car.

“I’ll do it Ash,” I said, tying my hair into a loose bun.

“Essie, you were asleep,” he argued, staring at me.

“I’m awake now. Give me a coffee and I’ll be good,” I said getting out of the car.

“Fine. Let’s go get some snack too. It’s you and me for six hours so we should stock up,” he said, leading me into the gas station.

“I’ll get snacks. You get refreshments,” I said before we high fived and split up.

I grabbed chips, granola bars, some candy, and a couple sandwiches. Ash and I met at the counter, his arms full of drinks. He grabbed plenty of flavored water for me and soda for himself.

“I’m grabbing two coffees quick,” he said to the cashier.

He ran back and gave the short brunette the thousand watt smile. She blushed under his gaze. We took the bags from her and went back to the car.

“You are ridiculous,” I said while we settled in the car.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he laughed.

“Oh please. You flirt with everything that has a pulse,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Excuse you, but that’s Luke. I didn’t mean to flirt with her, but she was cute,” Ashton said, laughing again before pulling away from the gas station.

“You’re right, Luke does do that a lot,” I said, picking up my phone.

“Is that some jealousy I’m hearing?” he teased.

“No,” I said, hitting play on Nintendo Game by Alessia Cara.

“I’m kidding Essie,” he said.

“Yeah I know. Why did you guys pick Cape Cod?” I asked, taking the subject off me and Luke.

I opened a bag of cheddar sour cream chips and took a sip of the coffee Ashton got me. The bittersweetness ran over my tongue, just the way I liked it. Ashton always made sure the coffee he got me tasted just right.

“Well, I was personally tired of the same California beaches every summer and Cal wanted some place that was warm, but still pretty chill. Luke pitched Cape Cod and we all agreed,” he said with a shrug.

He made it sound so simple and easy, like it was just a walk in the park for them. Then again, the boys were always like this and it was always an adjustment at first, but I had found myself getting used to it.

“Who’s idea was it to bring me?” I asked, quickly eating a chip so he wouldn’t sense the nerves I had about the situation.

“Luke’s. He remembered how badly you wanted to go,” Ashton said like it was obvious.

“Yeah. It’s been my number one since high school,” I said quietly.

“I don’t get why you never went,” he said, taking a swig of his cream soda.

“My parents never wanted to and then during college, I just never got the chance or there wasn’t time. Now, yeah my career allows for vacation, but I didn’t think anyone would want to go,” I said shrugging it off.

“Well now you got us,” Ashton said giving me a smile.

“Yeah I do,” I said returning the smile.

                                                          ➢➢➢

“Ash, your shift is over. You two need some sleep,” Luke called from the back.

Ashton got off at the next exit. Despite my best efforts, I was exhausted. I climbed into the middle seat while Luke and Crystal took over. Ashton climbed in next to me.

“Get some sleep Essie,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to my temple.

I adjusted slightly until my head was on Ashton’s shoulder. A nudging woke me up a few hours later. I slowly sat up, my eyes adjusting to the new light.

“Welcome to St. Louis little dove,” Luke said, our eyes meeting in the rearview yet again.

I looked out the window immediately. A gasp escaped my mouth as I took in the view. There was water shining in the sun and the big arch took over the sky. Brick buildings and greenery were everywhere. It was absolutely breathtaking and one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. Luke parked in front of a brick building with two arches framing the doors.

“We’re here,” he said, eyes gleaming as he looked at the building.

“This is where we’re staying?” I asked while following everyone else’s lead at getting out.

“Yeah,” Ashton said handing me my suitcase.

We walked into the condo, the white walls taking me by surprise.

“Luke and I will take the double beds,” Ashton said.

I stopped in front of a single room with a gorgeous view of the city. I could see the water from the window and there was something about the way the arch was reflecting on it that made me smile.

“Estelle’s got this one!” Luke called after following Ashton.

I slowly walked into it, my breath gone again.

“Well, I guess this is real now,” I whispered, my fingers ghosting over the soft bed sheets.

It had felt like a dream until this moment, but everything about it still felt like I needed to be pinched. If it was all a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

Let me know if you want more and want to be added to the taglist. 

taglist loves: @thruheavenandhighwater @notoriouslyhood @24kcalum @bbycal @cashton-queen @thebookamongmen @tommossoccer @slimthicccal @a-little-international @irwinsx

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations, DEL! You’ve been accepted as IO.

Del, I didn’t want to stop reading your app, and honestly? I’m a little mad that it had to end. But that makes me all the more excited to see you continue Cain’s journey on the dash! When it came to Cain’s bio, I really felt that you nailed the dichotomy between healing and hurting that was central to his skeleton. I especially loved the way he saw his abilities as curse-like at first, and how he’s been able to separate what his hands can do versus what they want to do. If Cain punched me, I’d thank him.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information: 

NAME/ALIAS: Del.

PRONOUNS: they/them

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: HST. Tbh about a 7...maybe a 6. I'm in classes and a full time internship so I can be a bit slow but I always try to keep my activity up as best as I can!

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: CAIN

GENDER/PRONOUNS: he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: 

So when I was reading some tips for Cain I accidentally misread it as “fists born to heal” and I really ran with that idea for a hot minute and a half. 

For me, Cain is like a baseball bat to the face. He's blunt and brutal and effective. He isn't interested in politics or the nuanced exchange of power and intrigue that weave through the city like a web. He's a simple man. He has simple desires. He wants to hit stuff that pisses him off. He wants to protect the people he cares about. Thats the entire reason he sticks with the Jem Family, because being a mutant fucking sucks and that's society's fault, so fuck society. 

I really want a Cain who is very straightforward. If some people are...layered ...like onions, then Cain is the type of person who’s more like a rock. Try to peel back his layers and you will accomplish only two things: 1) fucking up your hands real bad, and 2) realizing that there’s nothing underneath. With Cain, what you see is what you get. And what you get is a man who is perpetually angry and probably wants to fight you.

He is aggressive and he is angry at both a micro and a macro level and he is willing to shake the city down the bedrock if that’s what it will take to beat some sense into people. He’s not interested in maintaining peace or compliance as tensions in the city rise higher and higher. He doesn’t want to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt but he’s willing to do what he needs to do (though I think it’ll be interesting as conflicts and events arise to explore how willing Cain actually is to make sacrifices and see collateral damage happen). Cain wants to see the world change and he doesn’t mind if it burns a little first. I fully believe that he’ll be a big mover and shaker and shit instigator. 

BIOGRAPHY:

The anger is with him all along.

It's a cyclical kind of story. His father’s father meets some poor woman, makes a baby with her, and leaves. Over two decades later his father does the same thing. This time he clears out their joint bank account before he disappears. 

Cain hates his grandfather and his father. He hates that part of them is part of him, buried in his blood and his bones. They ruin his life and neither of them stick around to see it happen. The older he gets the more of his father he will see in the mirror, and the angrier he will become. 

His ma is a good woman. She is a good mother. She doesn’t deserve to be married to his deadbeat, chickenshit father. 

Cain adores her. She does her best. She doesn't complain when his father leaves, she doesn't even resent him for being such a shitty husband. When it becomes clear that his time out on the road is the type of time out on the road that never ends, she just sighs a deep, sad sigh from the middle of her chest. Cain will always remember that sigh, the way it sounds. It is like a reverse Pandora's box' all the hope emptying out of her at once and leaving only the bad shit behind.

She has a kid to raise and she does it without complaint. She works herself to the bone to keep him warm and keep him fed. She cleans for a living. The work is hard and the pay is shit. The hours are long.  Cain spends a lot of nights waiting for her to come home. She comes back sore and tired and aching. Sometimes she is barely able to stand. Cain learns how to help as quickly as he can. Maybe this is where the healing starts; him and his mother, his hands running over her back, knuckles digging into the knots of tight, angry, wrong, and digging into them until they slowly break apart. 

All of the cards are stacked against him as a kid. for most of his childhood he is a shrimp with no father. He is a dirt poor. His mother works all of the time. He's not that smart and he's not that friendly. He is at the very bottom of a very long social  food chain. He gets into fights often and he is destined to lose most of them. A lot of his time is spent getting hit. He uses up the rest crying, hot angry tears in his room, alone. He makes few friends. As soon as he's old enough to fake fourteen, and even a little before that, he works. He rides newspaper routes and scrubs dishes and fixes cars and mows lawns and does anything anybody tells him to as long as it will get him paid.

There's no magical thirteenth year for Cain. He never goes away for summer and comes back gigantic. Growing up is a slow, laborious process that ticks by in centimeters and inches. There's a time where he's small and scrawny and always picking fights and always losing them. Then he starts losing them less. Eventually he isn't losing any at all. His bullies start to look small and scrawny themselves and they start to leave him alone unless there's enough of them that they think they can all gang up on him at once, but after awhile even those fights are ones that Cain can win. 

That’s about when he starts to get paid to fight. This time he gets to fight in a ring. He’ll never get his chance at becoming a boxer or some MMA jackass but he’ll come pretty close. There’s no star power in Cain. He’s an angry, ragged son of a bitch. He’s got the charisma of a fly. People don’t like him much on principal. No one is ever glad to see him win a fight except maybe his mother. But you don’t have to be well liked to win, and Cain does win. He wins a lot. Eventually people start to show up to watch him fight.

That’s how he finds his father again.

Chicago is a big city. It's the kind of place where you can meet someone and never see them again for a decade, maybe two if you didn't get out much.

He’s just finished a fight in some seedy arena on the west side of town. He’s won in a single, brutal knock out and some people are excited about that but most people are pissed off that there wasn’t more of a show. Cain’s ignoring whatever the fuck people are yelling at him and Cain is just tryign to leave so he can peel of his dumbass shorts in the bathroom and go home.

And there’s a man in the crowd in front of him. He’s staring at him. Cain stares back.

He is older than Cain remembers, and he is shabbier. There’s a beer gut where there wasn’t one before and his arms are thinner. His face is lined with wrinkles and his teeth are yellow. A few are missing. If Cain were anyone else he might not recognize him

But a boy always knows his father and a man always remembers someone he hates.

This is what he remembers in that moment as his hands curl up into fists. He is a kid. He is watching his mama make some calls. She’s asking around to see if anyone has seen his father. He knows what she knows but refuses to admit. No one has seen him. No one has heard from him in days. He is gone and he is not coming back. 

Eventually she dials that bank. Cain isn’t really sure what she’s talking about but he knows that it’s not good. His mother’s face goes pale and her lips go tight and thin and she nods along to whatever the man on the other line is saying even though it’s clear she’s not listening to him anymore.

She says her goodbyes in a tight, polite voice. It only shakes a little at the very end. Then she hangs up and she sighs that sigh. It’s going to stay with him all his life. His father leaving doesn’t destroy his mother. It just hollows her out. That’s worse in Cain’s opinion. 

He is only 12. But even 12 year olds can want to kill people. He swears that if he ever sees his daddy again, he’s going to beat him dead. 

In 15 years the anger is still there, pure and white hot. It will always be there. It will always be waiting. 

He jumps out of the ring in one easy lunge and then he’s on top of his dad. He’s punching him in the face. The man spits blood and broken teeth. Cain is hitting him again and again and again and again. His hands feel hot, unnaturally so, like something other than his own blood is heating them up from the inside. Beneath him his father bleeds and spits out more teeth and groans and still Cain beats him. No amount of beating will ever be enough for him and he knows this. He knows he’s going to murder his father on this floor and he knows it will make his mother cry. He hates that these things are going to happen and he accepts them anyway. This is what needs to be done. This is what his father deserves. 

He grips his father’s head in his hot, hot hands and he spits in his face. 

It takes six guys to drag Cain off of his father. There aren’t enough inside the bar to do it. He knocks three out when they try. But eventually the police show up and there are enough of them. Cain is a big guy and he’s strong and he’s tough but even big strong, tough guys don’t do well when they get tazed. 

They drag him outside and they shove him into a cop car and the last thing Cain sees of his father is a man, covered in blood, pulling himself off the floor with shaking arms. 

He disappears before anyone has a chance to ask if he wants to press charges. Cain isn’t surprised.

Three aggravated assault and battery charges are enough to put him away for a long time, though. The sentencing is actually lighter than what he expects. Weirdly enough, despite the bloody crime scene and Cain’s size and all the witnesses who were sure they saw Cain beating his father to death, there’s no serious injuries to speak of. He hears down the legal grapevine that his father walked away that night, and that the guys who tried to pull him off didn’t even need trips to the hospital. Cain had bloodied their noses but somehow neither of them were broken. Miraculously, his public defender tells him. They all claim that they’re feeling better than ever.

Cain sits and listens to him. There’s a tick in his jaw that won’t go away, an angry jump of muscle as he grinds his teeth.

His mother does cry when he’s sentenced. He’s not happy to see that. 

When he’s back in his cell, alone, he drives his fist into the wall hard enough to split the skin of his knuckles

His hands feel hot. His knuckles hurt but they stop hurting very quickly. When Cain turns them over to see, he watches his skin knit slowly back together, closing over the open wound until it looks as if there were never a wound there at all. Cain stares. He swallows. He hits the wall again, hard, in the same place. He watches blood drip from his hand and then he watches the dripping stop. The same thing happens again. 

Oh, he thinks to himself. Oh fuck. 

Prison is a lot like being a kid again, except his mother isn’t there to comfort him when he gets into fights or when he crawls into his bed to bleed. Everyone wants to get a piece of the new guy, especially since half the time somebody gets into a fight with Cain, none of their injuries ever really seem to take. Cain puts his hands on them. He lays them out and he holds them down and he hits them again and again and again and  they hurt and they bleed and they get back up afterwards feeling fine.

He hates his powers at first. He wants to be able to beat the shit out of people the same way he has for years but the moment to hands get hot it's over. Nothing he does is really going to hurt his opponent. Sometimes they leave the fights looking better than when they came in.

 It doesn't take long for his prison mates to learn what he is. It doesn't take much longer for the warden to get wind of it too. 

And that is how Cain Douglas finds himself moved from Cook Corrections to Hornsbury Prison for mutants. 

If Cook Corrections was prison then Hornsbury is something below it, something sub-prison where men and women aren't allowed to feel even the slightest bit human. It's the type of place that’s not even trying to pretend it's here to fix you. It's here to break you and it wants you to know it's here to break you, all that guards, all the wardens, and most of the prisoners all want you to know you're here to be broken. 

He's roughed up by a couple guards in the first week. Thanks to his power not much of what they do to him manages to stick, but not much of what he does to them manages to stick either.

After that they just throw him in the hole for insubordination. It's cold in that dark, empty concrete room. It smells of the piss and fear sweat of the last guy they had in there. 

He spends a lot of time in that hole. He will never admit it to anyone. But sometimes he is afraid he will die in there, all alone.

He gets out eventually. Maybe it is for good behavior. Maybe it’s because people realize that Cain can win fights but he can never end them. His hands are harmless and by extension, so is he. 

There’s no job waiting for him when he gets out. He’s just spent five years in prison. Two of them were in Hornsbury. Everyone in his part of town knows about what he did to his father and worse, they know that he’s a mutant.

The first night Cain spends back in his home, someone sets fire to his mother’s front lawn. 

He packs up and leaves the next day. He loves his mother. This will always be true. But he won’t stick around her if it puts her at risk. 

And then there’s really nowhere for him to go but the Jem Family. He’s heard of them, before prison, but he never cared about it before becoming a mutant. He doesn’t care much about it when he first arrives either. It could have been any gang as they gave him a warm place to sleep and some food to eat. Cain isn’t picky. Unfortunately the Jem Family and Damien have a way of creeping under his skin. They’re good people. They care about people, about mutants. And they care about Cain, which more than he can say for just about everyone else in Chicago except for his mother. They give him food to eat and a place to sleep and pay him money he can send to his mother every month. 

They help him learn how to control his powers. They give him back a part of himself he thought was lost forever. Thanks to the Jem Family, he gets to decide what, when and who he’s healing. He also gets to decide what and when and who he’s hurting and honestly, he’s a little more thankful for that than the former. He starts to be happy that his power is what it is. He gets to help people that he cares about. He starts to care about helping people at all.

It was easy not to care about mutants when he wasn’t one. It was easy to ignore the way they were treated. 

But that’s not something Cain has the luxury of doing anymore. He sees how much people hate them. How afraid they are. He’s seen it in the scorch marks on his mother’s lawn, and in Hornsbury. He sees it now more than ever as everyone in the city starts to pick a side. It pisses him the fuck off. 

This city has needed the shit kicked out of it for a long fucking time and with the gan’s finally uniting, now is as good a time as any to land the first blow. 

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS: 

DANA RAMONE,

HE IS JEALOUS. He’s learned to appreciate his power but that by no means means that Cain like, likes being a healer. He’d much rather have something crazy and violent and powerful to use and he would definitely be kinda salty at Dana depending on their attitude towards their power. I also think it’d be neat to explore (mun willing of course) how he feels about her lack of control because he’s struggled with that before. If there’s a warmer relationship between them I can totally see Cain maybe trying to work them with them on control because he knows what it’s like to always feel a little bit incompetent in your own body. 

But y’know. If they don't’ talk that’s fine by him b-baka.

JACKSON RAEMERS, 

What Cain feels about Jackson is very similar to what an older sibling feels for an annoying younger sibling. He doesn’t want them seriously injured or hurt. He cares about them deep down. But if Cain went a whole week without seeing Jackson it would be the best week of his fucking life. I think Cain would be big on just shaming them for bing such a klutz and if they come in for really superficial injuries may just make them go deal with it themselves.  

LUKE ESPINOSA,

So I read on Luke’s own relationship description that they’d probably totally destroy Cain if they were allowed to use their powers on him. I want Cain to be like, very , very aware of that and totally pissed off by it. He’s not sure what makes him more angry, knowing that Luke thinks he could beat the shit out of him or knowing that it's true. He doesn't like losing. He never has. And he doesn’t like knowing that the only reason he wins against Luke is because Luke is giving him a huge handicap by not using his powers. It makes his blood boil and that definitely comes out in the way he fights with him and just deals with him in general. I’d love it if these two just sniped at each other all the time and def got into all sorts of dumb, non-competitions outside the ring to try and prove who’s the best without bringing powers into it. I’m talking some anime rivalry type shit. 

EXTRA: PINTEREST! NATCH! https://www.pinterest.com/bellydeli/mootants/he-hits-stuff/

[just-another-t-word-blog]

Just Like a Human

Detroit Become Human fanfic

Authors note: hey guys! It’s been a fat minute, but I’m back with a fanfic here for Detroit Become Human. This is a tickle fanfic, don’t like it don’t read.

Summary: Connor becomes fitted with touch sensors in attempt to better his investigation and human connection skills, though when a drunk Hank discovers his new sensitivity, things get a little out of hand.

I do not own Detroit Become Human

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Connor woke quickly and easily, as always. Blinking several times, he sat up, the tuft of hair swinging back down onto his forehead. All systems normal. Except.....

What?

Before now the table under him was nothing more than a mild pressure, signaling he was supported by a solid object. But now...

Cold. It was cold.

He hissed lightly and quickly stood, rubbing the backs of his legs to relieve the sensation. He jumped at the feeling of his own hands. How do humans put up with this?

Recently Connor had a revelation. Interacting with humans was hardwired into his system with little to no explanation why, though it seemed like the sense of physical touch was very important in most interactions. It made sense, humans are pack animals. They need contact to function, as well as sensation to tell them about the environment around them. So, hoping to understand and connect better with humans, he asked CyberLife to install more in detail sensors. They gave him a strange look when he claimed to “want to feel what humans feel” but didn’t argue and immediately set off to design new sensors and program in responses akin to that of a human response, the only difference being coded rather than chemical.

He stood marveling at the new sensations for a moment. The light touch of his clothing against his skin, light wind generated from the facility’s air conditioning, even his own eyelashes, hair, and the artificial tongue in his mouth, all was so unfamiliar. Things that weren’t anything more than a pressure were now individual, and all of these had names. It will take awhile to get used to this.

He exited the facility for the presinct, smiling in whimsy at every new sensation. The crisp late autumn air sent a shiver down his metal spine, the wind whispered through his hair, and the snow crackled beneath his shoes. He picked up a mound of the snow with his bare hands, staring at them as they began to ache from the cold. “Wow,”

It took him longer to reach the presinct doors than he’d like to admit, everything was so facinating now. And the small cat in the alley was so soft, he now understood why humans enjoyed their company. He walked into the building, still distracted by wonder and grinning like a child. The air in here was so warm! He has to inform Lieutenant Anderson about this upgrade! Walking to the desk, he took the long way around, dragging his knuckles along the wall and feeling them bounce over every crack.

Hank Anderson heard the footsteps approaching from behind. He spun in his chair, cocking an eyebrow at his detective partner.

“You look happy.” He deadpanned, tilting his head slightly when Connor nodded excitedly. “I got a new upgrade from CyberLife to better understand humans. I can feel everything now, just like you, lieutenant.” Hank stared in confusion, standing. “Wait, what? How? I thought androids couldn’t feel anything.” “Normally yes, but CyberLife saw no harm in fitting me with new sensors, as I am a prototype. I now am capable of feeling all physical input.” Hank circled him, looking for differences. The only one he found was Connor’s hand fiddling with the fabric of his coat rather than the coin he usually spun on his fingertips. He nodded thoughtfully. “Do we have a case?” Connor shook his head, Brown eyes loosing some excitement. “For once no, not today.” “Then if you’ll excuse me,” Hank trailed off, starting to make his way towards the doors. Connor fell into step with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was warm too. “Where are you going lieutenant?” He shook off the hand, continuing to walk as Connor failed to follow. “To get drunk off my ass, what else?” “Lieutenant, this method of stress relief is not good for you-“ He stopped himself as Lieutenant Anderson held up a hand as he walked, mimicking the movement of a talking sock puppet.

Six hours twelve minutes and fifty-two seconds.

Thats how long it took before Connor decided that Hank may want some company.

He had wandered into several bars around Detroit, none of them contained an intoxicated Hank Anderson. He did, however, learn just how uncomfortable bar stools are, and why the phrase “don’t let the door hit you on the way out” came to be (Connor made sure to add the preferred exiting speed for androids wandering into human-only bars to his memory.). Naturally, Connor became worried. The only place left to check would be his home, though after last time Hank may not want to see him there ever again. But, he was worried and determined, a potent combination that lead him to the conclusion of it would be better to know. The sun had set at least an hour ago, leaving the streets dark aside from the pale glow of street lamps against the snow. The last few taxis of the night splashed past in the slush as he walked, newly forming ice cracking beneath his steps. Snowflakes fell lightly from the sky, Connor shaking them free from his hair and face once they seemed too many. In hindsight the bus would have been faster, maybe even more comfortable. The cold became tiresome after youve become used to it. Though, if he did take the bus, he wouldn’t have seen Hank sitting on a park bench under the shelter of a tree, taking long sips of some amber booze straight from the bottle.

He approached in a calculated manner, not knowing for sure what state his human friend was in. Hank looked over once he was close, giving him an expression of dazed confusion before realization.

“I don’t suppose that upgrade turned you into a search hound too?” Connor rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to him and regretting it immediately when he was met with the unpleasant sensation of melted snow. "Just worried, Lieutenant.” He winced. Hank huffed at that. He tapped the bottle against the arm rest of the bench, staring off into space. He thumped his head against the back, favoring the sky over the lit up bridge before them. “So,” Hank started, “why the upgrade?” Connor perked up. “Well, you see, I was hoping it could help me better understand humans.” He got a side glance. “What does that have to do with the mission? I though everything you did was about the mission.” He shrugged. “I suppose it was a hope to better connect with deviants as well. And to understand you better too.” “There isn’t much to understand.”

They sat in silence for awhile. Connor remained relatively still while Hank fidgeted, Connor nearly reached for the coin he fidgeted with when Hank spoke again. “So you can feel everything now?” He nodded. “Yes, anything a human can feel, so can I.” “Then aren’t you cold?” He nodded again. Hank looked towards him. “Can you get hurt?” “Yes.” “That might be a problem.” Connor laughed, though he understood why it would be a concern. “I will be able to sympathize with those who have been hurt if I have as well.” Hank hummed and took another sip, going to offer some to Connor before stopping himself and bringing it back to his lap. “If you can feel what a human does, that doesn’t mean you’re going to go off to those girls in the Eden Club are you?" "No. That is not an interest of mine.” Hank nodded again. “Do you ask this because you were interested in them?” The human nearly choked on his drink, turning to face Connor fully. “What? Fuck no!” “Are you sure?” “Yes!” Connor chuckled. “You seemed fairly interested when I pitched you the case we were assigned there.” Hank gave him a look, “Smartass.” He chided, jabbing an elbow into where Connors ribs would be. Connor jerked to the side, squeaking, surprised by his own actions. Hank wasn’t too far behind.

“Uh, Connor,” he started slowly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Did they calibrate those sensors right?” The android furrowed his eyebrows, looking at where the contact was made. “I believe they did, and I wouldn’t say it hurt per-say but I can’t seem to find a word in my new sensory index for the particular sensation.” Connor sat back again, falling back into a relaxed position while Hank leaned forwards towards the android. He reached out slowly, watching the other and gently poked into the same spot. Reeling again, Connor jumped and covered the area, staring at Hanks hand with newfound nervousness. Hank began to smirk. “So you have no idea what this is?” “I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. Or at least if I do I don’t remember.” Hank thought for a moment before standing.

“Alright, stand up, I want to try something.” Connor hesitated but complied, standing slowly. “Arms up.” “Lieutenant, I’m not sure what his has to do with-“ “Arms up.” He raised them above his head, clasping a wrist in one hand and resting both on top of his brown hair. Hank circled him, settling for standing behind him. He waited for a second before darting his hands to the detectives waist, digging in with skittering fingers. Connors response was immediate, slamming his arms down into his sides and curling in on himself, cracking a grin with a yelp followed by strained giggles. He stopped moments after, waiting for the other to compose himself. “What.....wha- why..?” Hank chuckled. “They made you ticklish.” Connor made a face, arms still wrapped around his middle. “They made me what?” “Ticklish.” He reached out to give him a few more playful pokes, Connor desperately tried to escape each one. “Yknow, the thing that humans do to other humans to make them laugh. Against their will, but they laugh.” Connor managed to grab Hanks wrists, holding them away from him. “I do not understand,” he started. “Why did I laugh? Why do I feel compelled to escape when I know you are not hurting me?” Hank shook his hands free again, putting them in his pockets. “I don’t know, I’m not a biologist. But they were accurate in completing your request.” Connor nodded, cautiously resting his arms at his sides. The android seemed to become distracted, thinking, tuning out the world around him to contemplate the new sensation. Big mistake.

Hank lunged, knocking Connor to the ground and straddling his hips. Connor nearly attacked in response, though couldn’t as he felt fingers back at his ribs, drumming lightly while the thumbs drilled into where the lower set should lie. He shrieked before dissolving into laughter, arms clawing uselessly at the snowy ground trying to find a hold. He noted the alcohol on the humans breath, probably contributing to Hanks sudden friendliness. Hank was determined, switching spots frequently. He squeezed at his sides and hips, scribbled nails across his stomach, and scratched lightly around his neck and ears, smiling at every new sound. Connor struggled, squirming, having given up on getting away in favor of trying to cover sensitive areas. He shook his head wildly, shaking neatly combed hair loose, artificial tears forming in his eyes. “N-no! Please stop!” He cackled, beginning to kick his legs trying to find purchase against the Icy floor. Hank scooted back lower onto his legs, keeping him from kicking as much with his weight. He reached behind himself, scratching at Connors knees. He screamed loudly, arching his back before falling back into desperate giggles. The Lieutenant quickly flipped himself around to face his friends legs, hovering over them rather than sitting down to better reach. He grabbed one of the kicking limbs and raised it up, scribbling fingers behind the bend of the knee. He was surprised when Connor lurched upwards, wrapping his arms around Hanks waist and hugging tightly, laughing into the back of his melted snow soaked coat. He re-adjusted so the death grip around his waist wouldn’t hinder him, pulling one of connors knees up to his chest and trying to claw off the shoe flailing at the end. Connor kicked wildly, begging into the mans shoulder blades. “Please, no! Not my feet! Pleahehese!” But to no avail. The shoe fell with a crack against the ground, nails finding the soles immediately after. The AI jolted, letting go and falling backwards again, laughter going silent and wheezy though he had no lungs, clutching his face in his hands which seemed to be blushing blue. Seeing his friend had had enough he let go, shuffling to the side to kneel beside the stunned android. He laughed lightly as Connor hid his face in his hands, obviously still grinning underneath.

“How’d you like that, eh?” He asked, ruffling the now messy hair that was beginning to become soaked from the snow. Connor sat up, running a hand through his locks, a feeble attempt to straighten them out. “That was.... interesting.” Hank huffed, rolling his eyes. The investigator gave the human a light punch in the arm, rubbing the feeling out of his sides. “I still feel a mixture of panick and euphoria. Is this normal?” “Yeah, I think so.” Connor nodded, making a mental note. Hank grinned, almost striking again before Connor turned to him, blinking curiously.

“You said this was a phenomenon in humans?”

"Yeah, why?"

"Are you ticklish, Hank?”

Hank couldn’t remember another time he had ran so fast.

[thrashermaxey]

Ramblings: Updates on Byfuglien, Jones, and Zuccarello; Kyrou and Fabbri; Muzzin Traded; Blue Line Production – January 29

  Winnipeg coach Paul Maurice told reporters on Sunday that Dustin Byfuglien hasn’t resumed skating so to not expect him back this week. The Jets play their final road game of their broken-up trip on Tuesday night before returning home for three contests. We’ll know more this weekend.

*

Taylor Hall was not skating in the game-day skate with the Devils on Monday morning.

*

Don't forget to grab your copy of the 2019 Dobber Midseason Fantasy Hockey Guide!

*

Mats Zuccarello was not on the ice for the Rangers on Monday. They have him listed as day-to-day with a foot infection but isn’t expected to play Tuesday. He should be available later this week.  

While I’m on the topic, the likely trade of Zuccarello is an interesting case of expectations. At present time, he has 24 points in 35 games but is playing on a very good top line and top PP unit for the Rangers, often cracking 20 minutes a night. Let’s say he gets traded to somewhere like Calgary or San Jose, where does he slot? Does he get 18 minutes a game? 17? 15? What about his power play ice time? It could be a case where, fantasy-wise, having him stay put might be the best thing for his fantasy owners. Be careful what you wish for.

*

Shayne Gostisbehere was a late scratch Monday night, taking warm-ups and then leaving. He has a lower-body injury but it's not expected to be severe. He could be back in a few days. 

*

As mentioned before the break, the Sens are expecting Colin White back in the lineup this weekend.

*

On the topic of the trade deadline, it appears that the Flyers are prepared to trade just about anyone. There are a lot of very good pieces on this team so hopefully Fletcher doesn’t just blow it up. 

*

The Lightning expect Tyler Johnson to suit up for the team on Wednesday, having missed the team’s game just before the All-Star break.

*

Seth Jones was not at Columbus practice on Monday but is expected to play Tuesday night. Just in case he’s not, Zach Werenski was on the top PP unit with Ryan Murray on the second unit.  

*

We got a pretty significant trade during the games last night as defenceman Jake Muzzin was acquired by the Toronto Maple Leafs in exchange for prospects Carl Grundstrom and (unsigned) Sean Durzi, as well as Toronto’s first-round pick this season. It appears he’ll slot right alongside Morgan Rielly immediately.

You can read Dobber’s take on the trade here.

*

It was a beatdown in Pittsburgh as New Jersey came flying out of the break for a 6-3 win. The game wasn’t as close as even that score would indicate. Travis Zajac had a monster game with one goal and three assists. Blake Coleman chipped in a goal and an assist as well.

Zajac’s huge performance aside, Coleman is having a great season in leagues counting hits. He’s now up to 18 goals, 29 points, nearly three shots per game, and over 130 hits after posting seven in the victory over the Penguins. I wrote about him last offseason and why he was a gamble worth taking this year. All that was true then is still true now, just with a bigger sample to work with.

*

 James van Riemsdyk continued his hot streak Monday night, scoring the insurance marker in Philadelphia’s 3-1 win over Winnipeg. That makes eight goals and 10 points in his last 10 games. Be careful though: he’s not shooting a lot just yet. He’s only had 20 shots on goal in those 10 games, shooting 40 percent in the meantime. This is a guy who’s averaged three shots on goal in multiple seasons, including just last year. It’s a tricky situation for fantasy owners.

Carter Hart made 31 saves in the win.

*

Let’s take a few minutes to review Jordan Kyrou.

Sunday night, Kyrou participated in the AHL All-Star skills competition, posting the third-fastest lap in the history of the fastest skater competition. I wasn’t watching, but I saw the tweets and that led me to this thought:

  quick fantasy hockey tweet: Jordan Kyrou is the guy you should be fishing for in dynasty leagues as the trade deadline approaches.

— Michael Clifford (@SlimCliffy) January 28, 2019

  As of right now, Kyrou is a point-per-game player in his rookie AHL season with 28 points as a 20-year old. What’s even more special about that is how bad the San Antonio Rampage are: he leads the team in points despite playing 15+ fewer games than much of the roster, and the team being the sixth-lowest scoring team in the league. He has high-end speed, which isn’t enough in itself, but he’s a high-speed playmaker as well, and that separates him from a lot of players in my mind. He’s needed every bit of that speed and playmaking to have as much success as he has on a team so devoid of top-end talent.

The question for me is where Kyrou fits once he sticks with the big club. They have Vladimir Tarasenko, Jaden Schwartz, and David Perron all locked up for at least two more seasons after this one. Perron is capable of playing the left side if they so choose. If they decide to leave Perron on the right, Kyrou might be stuck on the third line for the time being.

All the same, this is about the lowest you’ll be able to pay for Kyrou for the foreseeable future, I think. He’s in the AHL and has already had an unsuccessful stint in the NHL. Maybe the Kyrou owner in your deep keeper or dynasty league is frustrated, or maybe he/she is looking for help this year to push for a title. It’s time to go fishing.

*

While on the topic of St. Louis wingers, don’t give up on Robby Fabbri yet, either. It has been a brutal 2018-19 season for him with just five points in 23 games, often finding himself either in the bottom-6 or a healthy scratch. Let’s be honest, though, it’s been a bad year for almost anyone in a Blues uniform to this point. If you didn’t draft Ryan O’Reilly or David Perron, you’re probably disappointed with your Blues selections.

But let’s not forget that over his first 123 regular season games from 2015-17, Fabbri had the same primary points per 60 minutes at five-on-five (1.37) as Mark Stone, and higher than names like Zach Parise, Patric Hornqvist, Tomas Hertl, and Jordan Eberle. It’s his first season after missing a year and a half with knee injuries and he just turned 23 years old last week.

This is basically a lost season for Fabbri but it’s also an important one. He’s back on the ice and has avoided catastrophic injury. That’s a win. Like Kyrou, his value will probably never be cheaper again in deep keeper/dynasty leagues than it is right now. It’s worth at least checking in with the Fabbri owner.

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In my Ramblings last week, I intimated that there would be a discussion on defencemen, and more specifically, production from defencemen. Let’s start that discussion.

Production from the back end is something I’ve written about for years here on Dobber. It’s mainly due to the changing nature of the game and the evolution of the position, even as recently as the last five years. Blue liners are required not only to defend their net and blue line, but start the attack, and do so by carrying the puck or passing to the correct outlet. The days of glass-and-out are long gone.

For reference on what I’ve written in the past, in these Ramblings from April I discussed shot shares, in this one we reviewed goal shares at five-on-five and on the power play, while a third one covered changes in peripheral stats. Those are just a few of the Ramblings that have pored over different types and different levels of fantasy production from the back end going back years.

I wanted to go over scoring from the back end again here today.

Let’s start with something simple: how many 40-point defencemen have there been every season since the 2013 lockout campaign? It’s an arbitrary cut-off to be sure but fantasy owners often use it as a barometer for who is and who is not useful for fantasy purposes. These are the tallies (all from Hockey Reference):

     Season

# of 40-point d-men

2013-14

25

2014-15

27

2015-16

26

2016-17

23

2017-18

30

  Season 2013-14 through 2016-17 didn’t see a whole lot of change, with the number of 40-point defencemen hovering around 25, give or take a couple. That exploded last season to 30 rear guards, but that shouldn’t be a huge surprise given that scoring in 2017-18 was the highest it had been in a decade. Given that scoring is up again this year, we’d assume more defencemen would crack 40 points, right? Well, as of Monday afternoon, we had 27 defencemen in the NHL with at least 40 games played this season and averaging 0.49 points per game (which is 40 points in 82 games).

So, are defencemen producing less from the blue line? Well, it’s not so simple.

Again, as of today, we have 27 defencemen on pace for 40-point seasons (games played depending), which is fewer than we’d expect. However, we do have three defencemen on pace for point-per-game seasons: Morgan Rielly, Mark Giordano, and Brent Burns. Only one defenceman was a point-per-game blue liner over any of those five seasons in the table (Erik Karlsson had 82 points in 2015-16). So far this season, we have eight defencemen having played at least 40 games while averaging 0.85 points per game (70-point seasons). From 2013-2018, we had just six instances of a defenceman cracking 70 points, and the only guy not named Erik Karlsson or Brent Burns to do so was Victor Hedman in 2016-17 (72).

In summary, at least to this point of the season, we’re seeing a decline in the number of players on pace for 40-point campaigns compared to 2017-18 (which was a five-year high) but we’re seeing a big uptick in players at the upper-end of the production spectrum. Just think about it: if current paces hold, we’ll have more defencemen crack 70 points this year (8) than in the previous five seasons combined (6) while having fewer 40-point defencemen (27) than last season (30) and as many as 2014-15. It’s quite the paradox.

That’s it for today on defencemen but this conversation is far from over. The reason for having higher highs from blue liners but fewer 40-point guys is confounding. I’m sure there’s a logical reason for this but I want to be a bit more thorough so I’ll continue on Thursday.  

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-updates-on-byfuglien-jones-and-zuccarello-kyrou-and-fabbri-blue-line-production-january-29/

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How this weekend could shape US Soccer’s long-term future

The US soccer federations annual meeting is this weekend in Hawaii, where a number of decisions impacting the tone of the future could be made

Who will lead US Soccer into the next decade?

That wont be explicitly decided this weekend when representatives of every state and soccer organization convene in Hawaii for the federations annual meeting, an event that doesnt typically get a lot of attention. But with US Soccer at a spaghetti junction, still revamping at the grass roots while dealing with immediate issues on the mens and womens national teams, what happens in Hawaii may set the tone for the federations short-term and long-term future.

Over the past 15 years, the federation has revved up sponsorship and marketing deals. Many budget items both revenue and expenses have roughly tripled since 2006. It has also abandoned its laissez-faire approach to youth soccer, stepping in with new programs and mandates.

Years ago, they made a big turn in trying to help promote the game in this country along with MLS, said Peter Vermes, a Hall of Fame player and Sporting KC manager who served many years on the federations board. In most respects, theyve done a very good job boys academy, girls academy, those things are highly important to the overall growth of the game. Not just growth in numbers but growth in quality.

This weekend, the federation is essentially asking its general membership, from state associations to board members, to sign on to change. The big item on the agenda: term limits for the president, vice president and independent directors, along with a new nomination process that allows time for background checks.

Current elected officials would be allowed to run for one more term. But Sunil Gulati, president since 2006 and vice president for six years before that, has not decided whether to run again next year. So especially if the term limits are approved a likely bet but not a sure one would-be reformers should have a golden opportunity to step forward and claim leadership roles.

Gulatis tenure has coincided with massive leaps forward in soccers presence in the United States and the rise of new media, from Twitter to talk radio, that amplify and examine every aspect of the sport. In this diverse, argumentative nation of zealous soccer fans, Gulatis seat is a warm one. Message boards and social media occasionally rage with a Fire Gulati sentiment, albeit often by those who dont understand that the USSF president is an elected volunteer. More credibly, longtime soccer writer Steven Goff of the Washington Post heaped praise upon Gulati but called upon him to depart at the end of his term next year, mostly to bring fresh ideas and faces into the feds leadership.

Yet within US Soccer, the presidency hasnt been disputed since 1998, when Bob Contiguglia defeated Larry Monaco with 57.6% of the vote. The same year, Gulati lost the race for vice president to John Motta by 11 votes, 372 to 361.

The federation then put the presidency and vice presidency on different electoral cycles, and Gulati won the seat from Motta who has since returned to the board via the Adult Council in 2000. The rest of the decade saw a series of unopposed elections: Contiguglia in 2002, Gulati in 2004, Gulati to the presidency in 2006, three independent directors (Carlos Cordeiro, Fabian Nunez and Donna Shalala) in 2007 and 2008. Mike Edwards was appointed to fill Gulatis VP seat when Gulati moved to the presidency, and he was unopposed in 2008.

Americas soccer migrants: the US footballers crossing Mexicos border

The vice presidency was contested in 2012 and in 2016, when Cordeiro ousted Edwards in an election in which the candidates could hardly stop praising each other. But Gulati was unopposed in 2010 and 2014. Cordeiro, Nunez and Shalala are the only independent directors the board has had, though with Cordeiro now in the VP slot, this years general meeting will elect a replacement.

And its not that the federation has put up barriers to running for office. The new term-limit bylaw also includes a requirement that presidential and vice presidential candidates must declare 60 days before an election and submit to a background check. In previous general meetings, the nomination process has been as open as the Planet Express election in the Futurama episode in which Fry nominates That Guy to run the company. But few people run for office.

Thats not to say the general membership is placid. The National Council, whose proceedings are transcribed for all to see on US Soccers site, is rarely content to simply rubber-stamp everything the Board of Directors has done or said, often shooting down suggested bylaws or raising contentious often tedious arguments from the floor. The 2003 meeting had angry state representatives warning of democratic paralysis and anarchy and revolution as several proposed bylaws were voted down.

Our relationship with the state associations has changed dramatically, Gulati said. Its become more positive. The federation has more resources and can accommodate a lot of things.

In the wake of the 2003 uprising, US Soccer embarked on a governance review. The general membership agreed with slashing the board from an awkward group of 40-some people down to its current size of 16, mirroring similar moves in other US sports federations. But in 2005, the members voted against a term-limit proposal.

The federation has gone through another governance review and will try again this year. So will one of its members, who has proposed a separate bylaw change with a slightly different set of term restrictions.

Whether the members vote yea or nay, they will one day have to replace Gulati. That wont be easy. Not just because Gulatis tenure has been successful by many measures MLS continues to grow despite ever-increasing competition on TV from foreign leagues, the mens team has had its share of successes, and the womens team has won more trophies. Gulatis role and influence within Fifa have grown.

The other difficulty: US Soccers presidency is neither the easiest nor most rewarding job. As presidents of other organizations (or countries) often find, the tedium can easily outweigh the glamor. The board has evolved from an operational role to a strategic one, but it still has to play referee in arcane disputes among state associations and sort out issues with US leagues, at times including indoor soccer and futsal.

The president is unpaid, despite occasional calls from the membership to compensate him or her. Gulati has mixed feelings about it. Others dont.

I think it should be a paid position, Vermes said. Theres so much time required.

And its a position that invites scrutiny. The federations site, in addition to the National Council transcripts, currently has 10 years of financial reports, board minutes dating back to 1999, federation bylaws and policies, detailed committee reports ahead of the annual meeting, etc.

Because of technology, theres been increased access to those sorts of documents, and weve been conscious about making as many things public as we got, Gulati said.

And these documents show the federation is both bringing in and spending much more money than it was a decade ago. At the 2001 general meeting, new US Soccer secretary-general Dan Flynn still the organizations top paid staff member showed how the federation turned a projected $2.2m deficit into a small surplus with a hiring freeze and a slashed travel budget. Thats not an issue today.

Gulati, though, measures the success of the federation which he stresses is not personal success not by money but by national team results, the growth of Development Academies in youth soccer, governance reform, and the growing awareness and appreciation of the sport.

Were a nonprofit corporation, so I dont measure our success by increased revenues, Gulati said. I measure our success by what those revenues can do. We have a bigger budget and bigger expenditures. But we dont measure what we get on our assets, but what happens on the field and the growth of the game.

Still, the federation faces some restrictions. Financially, US Soccer has to meet all the criteria to remain a nonprofit. US law also requires the fed to give athletes (current or recently retired) at least a 20 percent share of voting rights, which works well on the board but leads to unusual weighting in general membership meetings, with the handful of athletes in attendance each wielding the voting power of many state associations.

Nor can the federation easily split its duties as amateur overseer and pro developer. In accordance with the Sports Act and the requirements of Fifa and the United States Olympic Committee, the Federation shall be autonomous in its governance of the sport of soccer in the United States and may not delegate its governance responsibilities, reads Bylaw 105(1), which is not slated for an overhaul at this weekends meeting.

Thats what federations do all over the world, Vermes said. It goes with the territory. Theyre directly connected to Fifa.

Indeed, Englands Football Association, the original soccer federation, bears some similarities to US Soccer. It has representatives of the Premier League and the Football League. And those who complain that US Soccer is run by too many people from business or academia may be surprised to learn the FAs chairman is the former CEO of Cable & Wireless, and its executive director is the former CEO of United Biscuits.

USA Basketball also resembles US Soccer, at least since pro players entered international basketball competitions in the late 80s. The NBA directly appoints some board members in addition to the required athlete reps.

And the federation simply cant be the top-down authority over all soccer in such a diverse country in which the game has grown in fits and starts. The Development Academies have been controversial, especially with the new Girls Development Academy treading into the same space long occupied by US Club Soccers ECNL. Recent mandates on youth soccer, a rare effort by the federation to dictate how the youth game is governed, caused the USAs often-warring youth groups to form a Youth Council Technical Working Group, which still meets several times a year, to demand more of a say.

When it comes to promotion and relegation between pro leagues, a favorite topic of soccer pundits but rarely discussed in US Soccers board and meeting minutes, Gulati sees the federation being willing to accept it but not impose it.

Its not the rules of the game that people came in on, Gulati said. When you buy into a particular structure, thats what you expect the rules to be. But if the leagues or a league wants to engage, were happy to be support that.

Indeed, innovation can happen elsewhere. Thats by design. The federation has a lot of jobs. Starting or running a league is one it does only reluctantly, such as the combined NASL/USL second-division league of several years ago or the infrastructure for the NWSL after two previous womens leagues failed.

But the federation still serves vital roles beyond being an administrator of soccer. It hires and fires national team coaches. It is taking more responsibility in developing the next generations of players. It runs coaching education programs. And it generally tries to stop the contentious soccer organizations in this country from destroying each other.

So when will the next leader step forward?

Read more: http://bit.ly/2lJ226k

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