#regardless of whether or not they have adhd

[thestalkingentity]

How can I make this about being neurodivergent?

Great question!

With both characters being bad at something the are pretty much expected to be good at, whether this is due to them not being cut out for it or because of physical issues.

Scarecrow- You could make the connection of the scarecrow bad at scaring crows being a metaphor for Autism or ADHD. Since it’s at least in my experience it’s hard to be understood or do things correctly when people don’t explain it well enough. You can make the interpretation that he has trouble with it since he wasn’t give the method of how to. Quite literally in this case due to a lack of brain

Tinman - It is way far simpler to interpret him as having an invisible disability that makes some tasks that are simply way harder. Chopping wood like he was designed for A-Okay. In the rain and in an actual real situation harder. Could I make the interpretation that having real life variables makes tasks difficult especially with neurodivergence? Yes. But you can also see this as someone with a chronic illness that their body just gives up on them sometimes.

I would also like to make the comment of even if they aren’t going through the same struggles, they still get along and support each other regardless of their differences or disabilities.

This is brought to you by a autistic dyslexic and someone with chronic pain/illness!

I do not have any professional training I just made the connections off of what I know.

One of things I love about the Wizard of Oz books/movie is that, What the Scarecrow and Tinman want and go onto be is different than what they were.

The Scarecrow wanted a brain, and gets appointed the Ruler of Oz in the end. (to later take places in the Winkie country) He doesn’t become good at scaring crows. He becomes a ruler.

Similarly the Tinman he doesn’t want to no longer rust to be a better wood chopper, he wants a heart to be able to care and feel. Later he ends up the ruler of the Winkies because they were so fond of him.

They weren’t good at their jobs so they found a job they would be good at. Not changing themselves for what they are supposed to be but finding something that fits. Dose the scarecrow stay the ruler of Oz? No he ends up deciding to hang out with his friend the Tinman.

[krysmcscience]

BILLDUMP TIME (with transparency, because I can). Don't mind me, I'm just yeeting my goofy art at some way more talented individuals out of nowhere and then hauling ass back to the security of being a weird silent lurker ahaha

@tesscourtes and @beccadrawsstuff, respectively! These two Bills make a little prism of sorts together because of their recent crossovers on Patreon~ :3c Speaking of which, I highly recommend supporting both these artists! They do fantastic work! (TessCourtes and Beccup)

@qoolk on the left, and @monobmp on the right! I am such a sucker for these outfits~ OuO Go and check these two out, their art is phenomenal!!! >u<

@1spooky2me The most difficult Bill of the lot for me to draw, ahaha... Their art is so incredibly consistent and dynamic, I am, a little envious <:,) A little envious, but mostly impressed, so go look at their amazing art, what are you waiting for

And finally, @ckret2, whose writing is sublimely in-character and just a delight to read - they're a great artist, as well! I simply Could Not resist drawing their Bill in this ridiculous incredible and very fashionable pink feather dress, even though he only briefly wears it in their fic, so I also did a little bonus doodle of him in his standard hoodie to make up for it. XD (Also, as far as I'm concerned, Bill and Mabel were both correct in that lime green accessories make the dress Much Better.)

This is just a small selection of the human Bill designs I enjoy. I may draw and post more later on, who knows! Feel free to reblog with some neat Bill designs, either your own or by other folks - if any of the designs particularly call to me, I'll add them to the little list I've got going~ :D (Alternatively, if you really like my stuff and want me to draw something specific, you could...mmm...perhaps, commission me...? OuO)

Also I'm tagging Billford because uhhhh yeah, sorry not sorry, every single one of these Bills is getting shipped with Ford by the artists in some way or another, lmao

[frostgnawdraws]

been thinking about gabbro a lot today and have concluded they are just like me fr. am I projecting? probably. but who's gonna stop me

[odysseys-blood]

i wonder how much longer the devils' lifespan is compared to a human. because the kings have been around for AGES when you take into account the fact that they were all full fledged adults with their countries well established by the time solomon first made contact with them. but also what's been messing me up about the longevity of their lives is the fact that the mc meets children! (from satan's bath card preview)

and from this conversation with sitri and ppyong devils are no longer being born because lilith, mother of all devils, has disappeared along with god and solomon. (ch3)

of course we know solomon is dead but the other two's existences are kinda up in the air at the moment. and with the fact that they all disappeared a long time ago its been. a few millenia which means any devil children have been babies and children for. a VERY long time from a humn perspective. and in that time many generations have sprung up between solomon's death and the mc being born. but also time passes differently in hell (likely slower from the fact that mc wasn't aware that the anniversary of their parents' death approached and passed (in ch4), as well as the fact that sitri says solomon spent a century in hell when solomon only made it to his 50s on earth (unles pretty busy has changed this for the story but i dont think they have)

with how all the devil's act you really would think that solomon disappeared just yesterday to them! thousands of years have passed on earth but theyre still heartbroken like they last spoke to him just last week! how short is the life span of a human to them. is it just like a blink and you're gone. are they aware of how limited their time with the mc is. because even with hell being so technologically avanced there's death every day. there is no cure for death. you will die and they still haven't even coped well with the death of a man that lived so long ago.

[copperbadge]

I'm getting depressingly good at identifying the formula for Pop Academic Books About ADHD.

Regardless of their philosophy it pretty much goes like this:

1. Emotionally sensitive essay about the struggle of ADHD and the author's personal experience with it as both a person with ADHD and a healthcare professional.

2. Either during or directly following this, a lightly explicated catalogue of symptoms, illustrated by anecdotes from patient case studies. Optional: frequent, heavy use of metaphor to explain ADHD-driven behavior.

3. Several chapters follow, each dedicated to a symptom; these have a mini-formula of their own. They open with a patient case study, discuss the highly relatable aspects of the specific symptom or behavior, then offer some lightweight examples of a treatment for the symptom, usually accompanied by follow up results from the earlier case studies.

4. Somewhere around halfway-to-two-thirds through the book, the author introduces the more in-depth explication of the treatment system (often their own homebrew) they are advocating. These are generally both personally-driven (as opposed to suggested cultural changes, which makes sense given these books' target audience, more on this later) and composed of an elaborate system of either behavior alteration or mental reframing. Whether this system is actually implementable by the average reader varies wildly.

5. A brief optional section on how to make use of ADHD as a tool (usually referring to ADHD or some of its symptoms as a superpower at least once). Sometimes this section restates the importance of using the systems from part 4 to harness that superpower. Frequently, if present, it feels like an afterthought.

6. Summation and list of further resources, often including other books which follow this formula.

I know I'm being a little sarcastic, but realistically there's nothing inherently wrong about the formula, like in itself it's not a red flag. It's just hilariously recognizable once you've noticed it.

It makes sense that these books advocate for the Reader With ADHD undertaking personal responsibility for their treatment, since these are in the tradition of self-help publishing. They're aimed at people who are already interested in doing their own research on their disability and possible ways to handle it. It's not really fair to ask them to be policy manuals, but I do find it interesting that even books which advocate stuff like volunteering (for whatever reason, usually to do with socialization issues and isolation, often DBT-adjacent) never suggest disability activism either generally or with an ADHD-specific bent.

None of these books suggest that perhaps life with ADHD could be made easier with increased accommodations or ease of medication access, and that it might be in a person's best interest to engage in political advocacy surrounding these and other disability-related issues. Or that activism related to ADHD might help to give someone with ADHD a stronger sense of ownership of their unique neurology. Or that if you have ADHD the idea of activism or even medical self-advocacy is crushingly stressful, and ways that stress might be dealt with.

It does make me want to write one of my own. "The Deviant Chaos Guide To Being A Miscreant With ADHD". Includes chapters on how to get an actual accurate assessment, tips for managing a prescription for a controlled substance, medical and psychiatric self-advocacy for people who are conditioned against confrontation, When To Lie About Being Neurodivergent, policy suggestions for ADHD-related legislation, tips for activism while executively dysfunked, and to close the book a biting satire of the pop media idea of self-care. ("Feeling sad? Make yourself a nice pot of chicken soup from scratch and you'll feel better in no time. Stay tuned after this rambling personal essay for the most mediocre chicken soup recipe you've ever seen!" "Have you considered planning and executing an overly elaborate criminal heist as a way to meet people and stay busy?")

Every case study or personal anecdote in the book will have a different name and demographics attached but will also make it obvious that they are all really just me, in the prose equivalent of a cheap wig, writing about my life. "Kelly, age seven, says she struggles to stay organized using the systems neurotypical children might find easy. I had to design my own accounting spreadsheet in order to make sure I always have enough in checking to cover the mortgage, she told me, fidgeting with the pop socket on her smartphone."

I feel a little bad making fun, because these books are often the best resource people can get (in itself concerning). It's like how despite my dislike of AA, I don't dunk on it in public because I don't want to offer people an excuse not to seek help. It feels like punching down to criticize these books, even though it's a swing at an industry that is mainly, it seems, here to profit from me. But one does get tired of skimming the hype for the real content only to find the real content isn't that useful either.

Les (not his real name) was diagnosed at the age of 236. Charming, well-read, and wealthy, he still spent much of his afterlife feeling deeply inadequate about his perceived shortcomings. "Vampire culture doesn't really acknowledge ADHD as a condition," he says. "My sire wouldn't understand, even though he probably has it as well. You should see the number of coffins containing the soil of his homeland that he's left lying forgotten all over Europe." A late diagnosis validated his feelings of difference, but on its own can't help when he hyperfocuses on seducing mortals who cross his path and forgets to get home before sunrise. "I have stock in sunburn gel companies," he jokes.

[chroniccoolness]

this post is for the people with memory issues

people who's memories are getting worse every day, who's memories are stable but poor, people who can't remember what they did today or yesterday or this week, people who's childhoods are a faded blur. people who have slow greying-out amnesia that seems to just fade in and out of existence, and people who have complete blackouts, and people who have both. people who mourn the happy memories they know they've lost, who fear the bad memories they've lost that still affect them.

people who have "emotional amnesia" that makes it feel like none of their memories are their own, because there's few or no feelings attached. people who can ONLY remember the feelings from certain or even most memories, not actual events. people who's memory issues scare them or make them angry or make them miserable. people who's memory issues get them called childish or difficult or rude. who can't remember the names or faces of those they love. who are constantly forgetting the things that "you'd remember if you really cared". who misplace everything. who remember so little of their lives that they barely know who they are. people who's memory issues come from trauma/dissociation, ADHD, traumatic brain injury, brain fog/chronic fatigue, drug use, alcoholism. people who have no idea what causes their memory issues. people who's memory issues come from something else entirely.

i love you, you're strong, and you deserve support and care for what you're going through. memory issues can be frustrating and upsetting and disabling, and your suffering deserves to be recognized. whether you're soaring through recovery or are only ever going to get worse, you deserve good things in life and to live the fullest you can, regardless of how much you remember.

[youunravelme]

meant just for you // part one

author's note: long time no see! i'm (somewhat) back! i'm really excited to share this story with everyone, but it wouldn't be possible without bestie girl @thewintersoldierdisaster who has helped me tremendously along the way. thank you so much, p! this is for you :)

summary: you have a history of dating around and hooking up. after seeing your teammates start to settle down, you and mat make a bet to see who can fall in love first.

pairing: mat barzal x pwhl!reader

warnings: mentions of sex (though no actual smut because i can't write that to save my life), cursing, toxic boyfriends

the meeting

being selected for the all star pwhl 3 on 3 showcase was an honor in and of itself, one you didn't take lightly. it was even sweeter since it was held in your hometown, ubs in elmont, new york. 

you worked hard to get where you were today, not coming from money. sure your parents would be upper class anywhere else, but on long island? middle class. add on the extra expenses of skating lessons, goalie gear, and club fees on two teachers’ salaries, there wasn’t much cash left over when it was all said and done.

safe to say, your mom and dad shed actual tears when you were drafted to the sirens. whether they were tears of joy or tears of relief (from the fact that they hadn't wasted money on a career that would never be), you weren't sure. they probably would've cried regardless of what team, but knowing you were just across the river was a huge relief for them.

“proud of you squirt,” your dad said into your hair. “it’s time for you to start carrying your own goalie bag and peeling your oranges, now.”

you rolled your eyes. “i've been doing that for years, dad.”

“not the oranges,” your mom chimed in.

you grimaced. “i don't like the feeling of the peel getting under my nails. it’s gross.”

safe to say, you were ecstatic to tell your parents you were playing in the 2026 pwhl showcase. your parents had squeezed you so tightly in a group hug that you were sure some of your ribs cracked.

“you’re gonna be great!” your mom cheered.

“we can rent out our driveway to lazy tourists!” your dad said. you pulled back and gave him a strange look, but he didn't even look the least bit sorry. “i’m trying to earn back all the money i spent on your goalie gear, squirt.”

you'd rolled your eyes at the time, thinking it was just an over exaggeration, but when you saw how bad traffic was in elmont, you were grateful for the reserved parking for players.

you pulled into ubs’ reserved parking area, feeling the excitement hit you all at once. 

you were at ubs for the all star red carpet event you'd grown up watching from the rug in front of the tv in your parents’ house. sometime that week, you’d be on the ice instead of watching the islanders from the stands like you had the last few years. you grew up down the street, and later that week, you would play on that ice in front of thousands of hockey fans.

you could feel the excitement singing in your veins, you were bouncing on your toes, tapping your feet in your heels as you got out of the car. you straightened your teal patterned pant suit and black corset top, before pulling your phone out of your pocket. 

you: are you here yet?

you texted jessie eldridge, not sure if she arrived with everyone else. for the first time ever, you were running late. the anxiety (and probably the undiagnosed adhd) meant you spent more time fretting at your parents’ house than you anticipated, hence why you were arriving at the very end of the pwhl segment of the red carpet.

you’d have to apologize to your agent later.

now that you’d arrived, more anxiety started setting in. the cruel, self deprecating words inhabiting your brain told you to go home, that you didn't belong among “real hockey players.”

jess: not yet. pulling up now! traffic is insane!!!

you sighed and tried to touch up your lipstick in the reflection of your car window while telling yourself mentally that you could be brave, you could do hard things. you were the starting goalie on one of the six inaugural teams in the professional women’s hockey league, you were used to fear, or not feeling like enough. there was a reason you didn't check the comments on tiktok or instagram, or the replies on tweets after the games. people were cruel.

despite the shaking in your knees, despite the anxiety threatening to swallow you whole, you remembered the tears in your parents eyes when you got drafted, the hugs they gave you after each game.

you remembered the little girls you'd seen in the crowd with signs and your jersey on. that had to mean something, even if there were sexist pigs out there who didn't.

before you started walking, another car pulled into the parking lot and parked a few spaces away. you paused, recognizing the car, and waited for your teammate to get out.

jess eldridge popped out of her car, smiling wide as soon as she saw you. “long time, no see,” she joked, considering you saw her earlier that morning for practice. her eyes widened as she took in your outfit. “jesus fucking christ,” she said. “tryna get laid tonight?”

you grinned like a child and waited for her to catch up before you both started walking towards the red carpet. “we’re at a work function, jess,” you chided, knowing good and well that had never stopped you before. “how was the drive?”

jess shrugged. “traffic was not fun, you're lucky your parents live around here.”

“did everyone else ride on the bus?”

“they did if they’re from out of town.” jess pulled out her phone and checked the time. “i think we might be the last ones here. which, i’m always late, but you being late is unheard of.”

you shrugged. “i figured i could be late this one time. i’m early to every other event.”

the two of you walked towards the fan area, smiling as the noise levels increased. you started bouncing on your feet once more, grinning from ear to ear.

there were little girls who gasped when they saw you both. you pointed out a little redhead wearing jess’ jersey and the two of you quickly made your way to her.

sharpies were being pushed in your line of sight, it felt like there were so many people yelling at once. the announcer said your name, followed by jessie’s. little girls were asking for your autographs, social media interns were interviewing sarah nurse and emma maltais, there were random cheers at random intervals.

it was overwhelming.

somewhere along the autograph lines, you lost sight of all the other girls, only realizing when you looked up from yet another jersey and noticed you were standing alone.

an assistant called your name and gestured you down the line to take a few photos. you were on your way when a shoulder hit yours and nearly sent you sprawling on the ground had it not been for a firm grip around your bicep.

you glanced to your left and saw a man with a dazzling smile you knew all too well through the screen of your parents’ tv and your social media.

mat barzal.

“sorry,” he grinned. “didn't see you there.”

you weren't sure how, you two were standing eye to eye, it wasn’t like you were as short as emma, you were pretty tall, even without your heels on.

“oh,” you said. “you're mat.”

he nodded and stuck his hand out to shake before saying your name. you must've looked surprised because he laughed when he dropped his hand from yours and gestured to you. “you play for the sirens, right? goalie?”

you smiled and nodded before an attendant was ushering you down the carpet. you fully expected him to wave bye, but he kept up.

“you watch our games?” you asked.

he nodded again. “went back and watched the shut out you had against montreal. it was impressive, especially going against poulin.”

you beamed under his praise, remembering the amount of times you tapped the goalposts for blocking shots you couldn't or the twelve cherry starbursts you ate before the start of the game like you’d done since you were seven.

the game before, you only had eleven and lost by two goals. you weren't taking any chances anymore.

another attendant rushed you to stand in front of the banner to take your photo. mat caught up with you again after his picture was taken. “it’s nice to meet you,” you started when he was close enough to hear you. “my parents love you.” you blinked. “i mean, i grew up with islanders fans for parents.”

mat’s eyebrows rose, a small smirk on his lips. “really?”

you smiled. “grew up right down the street actually.”

he gave a low whistle. “bet that’s convenient.”

“my dad joked that he was gonna rent out the driveway to lazy tourists.”

mat threw his head back and laughed as the two of you continued down the carpet, stopping to sign autographs along the way. 

“your teammates here yet?” he asked.

“i was definitely like the last one to arrive. jessie eldridge showed up around the same time but i don’t see her...” you noted for the first time that you'd lost her somewhere along the way. “whoops,” you said. “are any of your teammates here? is sorokin?”

“big fan?” mat snickered.

but your mind was already moving on. your eyes widened as you grabbed the sleeve of mat’s suit. “oh my god, is patrick roy gonna be here?”

he shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. “he’s taking the bye week to ignore our phone calls.”

you huffed.

the closer you got to the end of the red carpet, the more you realized you were going to have to leave mat, the handsome stranger who wasn't really much of a stranger considering how much you knew about him already. 

he was starting to get tugged in different metaphorical directions by the fans reaching out for an autograph while it was obvious your popularity was nowhere near his.

“i’ll see you later,” you said.

mat’s brows pulled together. “you're leaving?”

you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder. “gotta catch up with the girls before the game tonight.”

“you feel good about it?”

your fingers twitched against your legs with more excited energy as you backed away from him, a smile on your face as you shook your head. “uh uh, nope. i don't talk about the game before the game, goes against my beliefs.”

mat cackled. “i’ll see you around, good luck!”

you spun on your heel and walked off the carpet. you walked until you saw familiar faces. emma and jess were standing at the end, looking at you and smiling as they talked among themselves.

“when i asked if you were planning on getting laid tonight, i didn't think you were going to go after barzal,” jess laughed.

you shoved her shoulder good naturedly. “we just ran into each other.”

emma snickered and shook her head. “he's hotter than all the other guys you've hooked up with, twitchy. why not give it a shot?”

it was true, you and emma went to ohio state together before being drafted to two separate teams. she was your roadie roommate and often saw the guys you'd swiped right on.

she was also the one who gave you what some might consider the offensive nickname of twitch.

“you keep spazzing out and twitching before games,” she noted.

“i’m practicing my eye and hand movements,” you said before popping a red starburst in your mouth.

you rolled your eyes but a smile was still on your face. “i don't hook up with hockey players.”

“why not? they’d be the perfect match, they'd understand your schedule, the intensity of the game. they could make a great boyfriend...” jess replied.

but you shook your head. “hookups are the only relationship i can commit to right now. i’ve got too much else going on. and hooking up with a hockey player just seems like bad news.”

emma and jess shrugged before you followed the two of them to your seats.

winter olympics - milan

the lack of travelling you did for the all star week was made up when you flew to milan for the winter olympics. it was a beautiful city to be in, no doubt about it. though, by the time you got to your room, you weren't interested in doing anything but collapsing face first into your bed. the six hour time difference and the flight immediately after all star weekend was starting to catch up with you.

safe to say, you felt like death heated up.

you shared a room with alex carpenter, your alternate captain. you loved alex like the older sister you never had, she was the picture perfect roommate.

except you were staring at her sleeping body like a weirdo because you were wide awake. how the hell had she fallen asleep so fast? it felt like your body was still in new york. 

you finally accepted that you weren't going to sleep anytime soon, and instead of scrolling on tiktok and waiting for sleep to hit you in the face (and risk waking alex up), you grabbed your phone, your bag, and headed outside towards the dining hall.

it wasn't too long of a trek, though you were wishing you'd put on more than a pullover and leggings when the wind blew too hard. when you finally made it in the dining hall, your cheeks were both warm from the blood rushing to them, and cold from the wind.

you looked around the large room, for what, you weren't sure. maybe it was for people you knew, or the food options, but you had red starbursts in your bag so you weren't too concerned on the food front. still, you wandered around, looking at the food anyway, just to see if anything piqued your interest.

you'd gotten to the dessert section when a mop of dark brown hair caught your attention. at first, you weren't sure if it was him, so you approached him in a way one might back away from a lion in the safari: slowly. it wasn’t until you saw his jawline and profile that you knew for sure

mat barzal had a stack of cannolis on his plate when you moseyed up next to him.

“i feel like four cannolis at two in the morning is a bit excessive.”

to his credit, mat didn't jump when you spoke. “leave me alone, we burn like thousands of calories doing this shit.” he piled another cannoli on his plate before turning on his heel and searching for what you assumed was a table (and hopefully not more food). “what're you doing up?”

“my brain says it’s only 8pm. i didn't wanna wake alex with my doom scrolling,” you said as you followed him to a table.

mat set his plate down and pulled out his chair, gesturing to the one across from him for you to sit. “jet lag is a bitch,” he said. his head tilted when he saw the bag you placed in the chair next to you. “what’s in the bag?” he asked before taking a bite of one of his cannolis. 

your eyes lit up as you smiled. “glad you asked.” you reached in and pulled out a starburst stick before ripping the top of it off with your teeth. you frowned when a pink one fell out. “dammit,” you grumbled, letting the pink starburst rest on the table. “pink is the worst.”

mat eyed you and the starburst for a moment before reaching for it. he unwrapped the paper and popped it into his mouth.

you did a little dance in your seat when the next starburst was red. it took no time for you to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth much like mat did with the pink one.

mat stared as he took a sip of his water. “is there something i’m missing? bringing a whole ass bag for just one thing of starbursts seems a little excessive.”

“you are correct,” you said, a smug smile on your face as you reached into your bag and pulled out a box. “i’m actually glad i ran into you. i was hoping i’d get to use this while i was here.”

mat blinked. “you brought battleship to the olympics?”

you nodded eagerly. “wanna play?”

mat sighed and shook his head, a smile on his face anyway. “you're so weird.”

maybe it should've hurt your feelings, but you'd been called weird all your life, this was no different. you shrugged. “maybe, but you didn't answer the question.

mat stared for a minute before pushing his plate aside. “no cheating.”

by 3am, you'd beaten mat twice and were on your way to your third win. “a7,” you said.

mat rolled his eyes and groaned. “you're definitely cheating. there’s no fucking way you're not.”

you laughed and fell back into your seat. “how would i cheat, mat?”

“i—i don't fucking know!” he sputtered and pointed an accusatory finger. “but i know you’re doing it! no one is ever this good at this stupid fucking game.”

“i played a lot as a kid,” you said like it was an explanation. “sometimes by myself.”

“how the hell did you play with yourself?”

you snickered, the joke was coming out of your mouth before you could stop it. “vibrators exist, you know.”

mat looked at you like you'd grown another head before bursting into laughter. “i fucking hate you,” he managed to squeeze out between wheezes. “you win.”

you giggled a little at his reaction, preening at the attention. “what do i get for winning?

mat slid the plate across the table to you. “pick a cannoli, any cannoli.”

you looked at the cream filled pastry, the way most of the cream had cooled to room temp and lost its volume, looking rather melted and unappealing. you twisted your face into a look of disgust. “i beat your ass three times and all i get is melted cannoli?

mat rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his lips betrayed his fake annoyance. “what do you want?”

you thought about it, thought back to the last few weeks, and what the next two weeks would look like. “you have to peel my oranges for the rest of the olympics.”

“...that's not a euphemism, is it?”

you cracked a smile. “no, i don't hook up with hockey players. my dad would peel my oranges because i hate the way the peel feels under my nails and oranges are my favorite fruit so it poses quite the problem.”

“so whenever i see you with an orange, i’ll peel it for you?”

you nodded.

he nodded and stuck his hand out. “you've got yourself a deal.”

you didn't see mat until two days later when you ran into him at the figure skating pairs event. well, “ran into” might be a bit dramatic. in reality, you were sitting in the stands with alex and emma when an unfamiliar (yet growing more familiar) body plopped down next to you.

before you could even react, a peeled orange in a ziploc bag appeared in your line of sight. “want it?” mat asked.

your eyes lit up when you saw it, your hands immediately reached out for the bag. “oh my god, i’m starving.” you did your best to not snatch the bag from his hands in your hunger, but you shoved three pieces in your mouth almost immediately after opening the bag.

mat cackled. “were you hungry?”

“starving,” you said through a mouthful of fruit.

emma laughed from her spot next to you. “oh my god. did anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”

you shrugged. “i don't know, men are usually too busy getting the best head of their life to complain.”

alex choked while emma threw her head back laughing. mat froze next to you. 

“you’re insane, twitch,” emma managed to say between laughs. “absolutely batshit.”

but you shrugged and kept eating your oranges.

“twitch?” mat said after a moment. “who’s twitch?”

you raised your hand like you were sitting at a desk at school. “that’s me,” you said after swallowing more oranges.

mat blinked. “why?”

emma piped in. “in college, she would look like she was twitching—”

“—i was practicing my hand and eye movements—”

“—in college?” alex interrupted. “she still does it.”

“and hence the name twitch was born,” emma concluded.

you rolled your eyes and looked at mat. “they're exaggerating.”

he only smiled and shrugged. “more creative than our nicknames.”

“well, the bar’s in hell then,” you said.

“barzy! we gotta go!” all four of you looked over and saw bo horvat standing at the end of the aisle, gesturing for mat to get up.

mat, to his credit, looked a little sorry to leave, even as he stood up. “i’ll see you around, twitch,” he said.

your friends, to their credit, waited until he was out of sight to start elbowing and shoving you around. 

“he brought you a peeled orange? how did he even know to do that?” emma pestered.

once again, you rolled your eyes. “it was my reward when i beat him in battleship.”

“battleship? when did you have time to play that?” alex asked.

“the other night when i couldn't fall asleep.”

“are you gonna hook up with him?” emma bounced in her seat, her blonde hair falling around her face.

“i don't hook up with hockey players,” you said. “too close to home. besides, there are plenty of men to sleep with while i’m here.”

you found yourself making out with (and fucking) a french snowboarder before the night was over. he wasn't bad, he used a lot of tongue, that was certain. which begged the question: was it a french kiss in france? or was it just a kiss? you'd never know, you forgot to ask him.

alex was getting in bed by the time you got back to the room, your hair mussed and lips swollen. “eventful night?” she asked.

you shrugged and changed into your pajamas. “you could say that.”

“how was he?”

“sloppy kisser. how’s steph?” you asked.

a smile you could only describe as soft graced alex’s lips. “great, we spoke an hour ago. she told me to tell you good luck.”

“she’s so sweet.” you groaned as you fell back into your bed. “none of the guys i’ve been with have ever been that nice.”

the room was silent, yet so loud. “twitchy,” alex started. “they're hook ups, not boyfriends.”

you sat up in bed and looked at alex. “what do you mean?”

“hook ups have no emotional investment, twitch. why would they care if you did well or not?” she asked. and the truth stung a little, you weren't going to lie about that. after a beat of silence, she continued. “could it be possible the hook ups aren't enough anymore?”

you shrugged and fell against the bed. “i don’t know,” you groaned. “it’s not even like the sex is good anymore. i mean, it’s not bad, but it’s like i have to give a beginner’s lesson every time.”

“that is a benefit of a committed relationship. you're not starting over every time you have sex.”

you turned your head and saw how alex was scrolling on your phone. you weren't sure how she could do it when you were having a slight crisis. “but i don't know that i have time for a boyfriend and hockey. how the hell am i supposed to manage that?”

alex turned to look at you. “if he wants to be with you, and if you want to be with him, you both will find a way to make it work. but you have to get over this fear of commitment for it to work.”

you turned back to look at the ceiling and said nothing.

alex fell asleep shortly after your conversation ended like she didn't just wreck your worldview. and like a few nights ago, you got up and went to the dining hall, except this time without battleship or your bag of starbursts.

you should've been surprised when you saw mat again, but instead of focusing on why he was stuffing his face with cannoli, you just plopped into the chair across from him.

“do you ever wanna settle down?”

mat coughed and choked on a cannoli. “w—what? with you?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, just in general. aren't most of your teammates married? do you ever want that?”

he swallowed and nodded, taking a sip of water before speaking. “i mean yeah, eventually. why?”

you fell back into your chair and sighed. “i feel like my friends expect me to grow up at some point. i mean i’m almost thirty, shouldn't i be committed to someone by now?”

he shrugged. “i don't know, should you?”

“don't your teammates ask you about that?”

“i don't know, maybe. but i just ignore them.”

“you do?”

“...no. okay? no. it gets to me too. but it is what it is. i can’t manage hockey and—”

“—dating, right?”

he nodded.

“what if we made a deal?”

“a deal?” he leaned in. “i’m listening.”

“you and i, we both want to stop being single, right?”

“right.”

“but we’re athletes, we’re competitive. so what if we made this a competition?”

mat took a bite of cannoli. “so what’re you thinking?”

“first person to fall in love wins. we try dating around and finding our people but the first person to fall in love wins.”

mat’s eyes widened. “just like that? we’re going from an inability to commit to falling in love?”

you nodded eagerly. “it’s like exposure therapy! grabbing the bulls by the horns.” you inhaled. 

“what does the winner get?”

you hummed. “a favor that can be cashed in at any time.” he nodded, looking lost in thought. “so what do you think? are you in?” you stuck your hand out, ready for him to shake it, but anticipating that he won't.

a moment passed. mat ran a hand down his face. “god i must be desperate,” he mumbled before he shook your hand. “i’m in.”

guy one: paul

you were soaked in sweat and your lungs were burning. with the water bottle attached to the back of the goal, you sprayed yourself in the face, the cold liquid doing wonders to cool you off.

you skated off the ice and towards the locker rooms. you shucked your jersey and chest protector off almost immediately.

“you in a rush, twitchy?” jess said from her locker across the room. “hot date?”

“maybe,” you replied.

truth be told, yes. you were meeting this guy named paul that you met on hinge. he seemed nice enough. granted, the bar was in hell. “nice enough” was the result of him not sending you a dick pick within the first three texts. he had yet to send an inappropriate text or photo, which gave you a little bit of hope.

so when you looked at your phone, you expected to see a message from him. but it was mat’s name on your home screen.

mat barzal: what time is your date tonight?

after that night in the dining hall, you and mat exchanged numbers. it was his idea, saying it’d be better if the two of you didn't leave meeting up to chance anymore. you'd hardly call meeting at two work events “chance” but you weren't going to protest.

you: 7, why?

you continued undressing until you were just in a pair of spandex shorts and a sirens shirt.

mat barzal: just curious. 

mat barzal: you ready to hang it up?

you: hang what up?

mat barzal: your hoe stage. may she rest in peace.

a snort came out before you could even think to stop it.

you: i’ll hang mine up if you do the same.

mat barzal: i thought that was the deal.

you liked the message and locked your phone.

jess slid into the spot next to you and tried to peer over your shoulder. “what’re your plans for tonight?”

you shrugged and began untying your skates. “hinge date.”

her eyes widened as she smirked. “ooo with who? the mystery man you were texting?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, that was just barzal.”

it was almost like someone had used a clorox wipe on jess’ face, because any trace of her smugness was gone in a flash. “barzal? barzal who? barzal as in mat barzal of the new york islanders?”

you blinked. “yep.”

her jaw dropped. “when did you get his number? is he the one you're going on a date with?”

as if the word “date” was a beacon in the night, every single one of your teammates’ heads turned your way. “you have a date tonight, twitchy?” ella shelton asked. “who is it?”

“mat barzal!” jess replied quicker than you could.

it was silent for just a moment before a million questions were fired your way. since when were you dating him? how did you two meet? when was your first date? is this your first date? why didn't you tell us?

“we’re not dating,” you said over the noise.

“then why is he texting you?” ella asked.

“because we made a bet.” the girls leaned in. “whoever falls in love first, and by proxy gets someone else to fall in love with them, wins.”

alex carpenter blinked. “why?”

you blinked back. “why what?”

“why make it a competition? i thought you weren't interested in dating?”

you glanced around the room, most of your teammates were in committed long term relationships with someone and those who weren't had just gotten out of one. then there was you, and maybe one or two other stragglers left to go bar hopping with the potential of taking someone home.

sleeping around was fun, but maybe you were ready for someone to understand you, to not laugh when you say you love sleeping in socks. you were tired of falling asleep with cold feet anytime you wanted the other side of your bed warm.

but how could you say that? a post practice gossip session was not really the place you wanted to lay your heart bare.

“maybe i just wanted some consistency.” you gestured to alex. “i mean, i see steph at nearly every game. it would be nice to have someone show up for me other than my parents.”

the mass interrogation dispersed not long after that confession, with you heading off to the showers before heading home to your one bedroom jersey apartment. to pass time, you took a nap while watching gilmore girls.

you met paul at the chipotle not too far from prudential. he suggested it and though you'd had chipotle plenty of times that week, you agreed because it was easy enough.

you filled your bowl with your usual and watched as he only got chicken and white rice. part of you tried to brush it off by thinking maybe he had food allergies, but why would he suggest a place where he couldn't eat most of anything on the menu?

he picked a table in the middle of the restaurant, which was also odd, but you went along with it. he was already seated and mixing his dry ass bowl together by the time you made it to the table with your drink.

it was weird, you'd admit. it wasn't like you expected him to pull your chair out for you, but you did at least expect him to wait until you sat down to start eating. maybe his family was different than yours.

“so,” you started as you mixed your bowl with your fork. “what do you like to do for fun?”

god you were horrible at this.

he shrugged and stuffed his mouth full of rice and chicken. “i’ve been reading rich dad poor dad.”

oh god. he was even worse at this than you were.

okay, okay, maybe this date could still be saved. “so you like to read?”

paul shrugged again. “sometimes.”

you blinked and took a bite of your burrito bowl while you waited for him to ask you a question.

he kept munching on his chicken and rice.

“so,” you started. “do you have any hobbies?”

“running.”

more silence.

“what do you do for work?”

“i’m an accountant.”

you stabbed your bowl with a little fierceness, but tried to taper your frustration. “i play in the pwhl.”

you waited and watched, hoping if he didn't understand what you did, that he'd at least try to act interested. but he just kept eating.

“have you ever run a marathon?” you asked.

“no.”

the date continued on like that, your questions answered followed by painful silences that served to exacerbate how one sided the whole experience was. at the end, he stood up to throw his things away without saying a word. you followed, because you were ready to say goodbye and end the disaster you were ashamed to call a date (god you can’t believe you shaved for this).

the two of you stood on the sidewalk, letting people move around you.

“we should do this again. this was fun,” he said.

and without even thinking about it, you said, “was it?”

paul blinked. “why wouldn't it have been?”

you laughed until you saw he didn't join in. “oh,” you stopped, “you're serious.”

paul just stared like nothing had happened. before meeting him, you weren't sure what a blank stare looked like, but after seeing it on his face, you could safely say the lights were on but no one was home.

“paul, you didn't ask me a single question, the only reason we didn't sit in silence was because of me.”

he blinked like he was getting paid to do it. honestly, at that point in the night, it seemed to be the only thing he did.

“you have nothing to say?” when he didn't respond fast enough, you rolled your eyes. “bye paul.”

before you could stop yourself, you started the drive to elmont to see your parents. you could go back to your apartment tomorrow, but you really needed to touch grass after that date, even if it was the small yard behind your parents’ house.

you were at a stoplight five minutes from your parents’ home when your phone rang.

mat barzal.

you squinted at your phone but picked up anyway. “hello?”

“hey! are you currently at a stoplight?”

that was an odd coincidence. “yeah?”

“about two blocks from ubs?”

“...yeah.”

“okay cool, i see you.”

you look around alarmed until you saw a hand waving in the car next to you. you couldn't help the smile on your lips when you saw him sitting in the car to your left. his phone pressed to his ear with one hand, his other waving at you. “what the fuck are you doing out and about?”

mat jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, like he was pointing at ubs’ general direction. “just had a game. you? i didn't think you lived on the island.”

“visiting my parents. i need to touch grass, my date was rough.”

mat grimaced.

the light turned green and you half expected him to hang up, but he kept the call going. “what happened?”

“i would’ve rather watched paint dry than relive that date again. he was the most boring person i think i’ve ever met. i asked him questions and he'd give me one or two word answers and then wouldn't ask me anything. and then at the end of the night, he said we should go out again because it was ‘fun.’ and then he had the audacity to be surprised when i told him it wasn't!”

“how boring could he possibly have been?”

you groaned. “his order at chipotle was white rice and chicken.”

“and what else?” mat asked.

“that’s it. that’s the only thing he ordered.”

“oh my god.”

“and he reads fucking rich dad poor dad for fun i guess. and he likes to go running. he’s also an accountant, but don't ask me for any more information because i think he’s allergic to details.”

mat cackled through the phone. “what was his name again?”

“paul.”

“hate to break it to ya, twitch. with a name like paul, you really should've expected it.”

before you could stop it, a laugh bubbled out of your chest. “that’s super judgmental.”

“and maybe if you were as judgy as me, you wouldn't have gone on a date with the human equivalent of wet cement.”

you turned your blinker on and got into the turning lane for your parents’ neighborhood. “not all of us can be as discerning as you.”

“hey, if you wanna run your hinge matches by me next time, i’ll gladly provide my expertise, free of charge.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time, barzy. thanks for listening to me bitch.”

the smile on his face was audible when he spoke to you. “anytime, twitch, anytime.”

guy two: nathan

the second date only happened after an extensive vetting process, aka sending screenshots and screen recordings of hinge profiles to mat and jess (in separate threads of course. there was no way you were starting a group chat with the both of them).

jess had been more forgiving than mat had, which surprised you. she pointed out her fair share of red flags, but it was nothing compared to mat’s.

mat met you outside sweetgreen where you went inside to collect your mobile orders. to his credit, he did have a beanie (for once, it wasn’t islanders related) and sunglasses on in a sorry attempt to not be spotted. it was clear the attempt didn’t work because there were two kids asking for autographs when you came out.

you stayed back far enough where it wasn’t obvious you were with him and waited for the kids to leave with their parents.

“i swear i’m not trying to attract attention,” he mumbled to you when the coast was clear. 

you handed him his order and rolled your eyes. “you're one of the most recognizable faces on long island, and you thought a beanie and sunglasses would save you?”

he shrugged before popping a pickle chip in his mouth and started walking down the sidewalk. “do you have any updated matches you wanna show me?”

without even responding, you handed mat your unlocked phone.

“oh immediately no,” mat said, looking at some guy named jonathan.

“what's wrong with him?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.

mat flashed your phone at you for a brief second. “he has a neck beard!

you grabbed your phone and looked at the photos again. huh, you hadn't noticed that before. “he can shave it!”

it was mat’s turn to roll his eyes. “he posted that picture because he thought he looked good in it, he's not shaving that fuckass beard.” he continued swiping through your matches and scoffed at most of them.

“this one has too many group photos, and i guarantee you, he's not the guy you think he is.”

two minutes later, mat scoffed and said fishing photos were a bad sign.

“it’s just fishing.”

but mat shook his head and offered no explanation. “didn't your friends tell you these things?”

“jess and ella were looking at the answers and content more than photos, i think they’re concerned about my safety.”

“and neckbeard passed the test?” mat’s eyebrows practically raised into his hairline. “twitch you are way too hot to be dating neckbeards and men whose only personality is fishing.”

“how is that fair to them? my only personality is hockey!”

you stumbled over the uneven sidewalk before mat’s hand steadied you by your elbow.

“try to stay on your feet, twitch.”

you stopped walking long enough to give him a look of disbelief. “i know you're not talking to me about staying on my feet. you fall down like four times each period.”

part of you expected mat to get defensive, but he smirked instead. “aw, you watch my games?”

you glowered and kept walking.

that was two days ago. you were currently getting ready to go on a date with nathan who had (somehow) managed to be approved by your board of trustees as mat called them. ella, jess, and mat couldn't seem to agree on anyone collectively until you matched with nathan.

he graduated from penn state law before he moved back to new york. he was the oldest of three boys and had played football since he was a kid. he doesn't play anymore now, you figured, but still got together with his friends at least once a month to play in prospect park.

it seemed like a good fit. ella pointed out how having friends was a good sign. jess said that he seemed to be passionate about his line of work and lighthearted. and judging by the dms you’d been sending each other, nathan was also way more charismatic and entertaining than paul, which was a win.

you met him at a coffee shop in manhattan, he didn't pull your chair out but he did stand when you walked over with your coffee in hand. which was fine, you weren’t old fashioned or anything, it was more than paul had done.

“hey,” he greeted with a thousand watt smile.

dear god, he was handsome.

it’s okay, you told yourself, you had marie philip-poulin shoot pucks at you a million times before, and she was way scarier than any man.

“hi,” you smiled back.

the two of you took your seats.

“hi,” he said again. “you look great!”

“you do too, handsome, i mean.”

he nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “what did you order?”

“mocha frappe,” you smiled. his face pinched in a small frown before it was covered up with yet another smile. “what about you?”

“americano,” he said. “i like it bitter.” he took a sip. “so i saw you're a fan of hockey, what’s your team?”

“oh, i’m actually a professional hockey player,” you gently corrected. “so, my go to team is the new york sirens, but if we’re talking nhl, my parents are huge islanders fans so i’ve been pulling for them as long as i can remember.”

his eyes lit up. “oh cool! i didn’t know you were a professional hockey player, i wasn’t aware they had a league for women now.”

“yeah! the inaugural season was last year, but we didn’t have official team names until this year.” you took a sip of your frappe. “what about you? do you follow the nfl closely? i know your profile said you played football.”

he smiled sheepishly. “unfortunately, i’ve been a jets fan since birth.”

you grimaced. “yikes...”

“take pity on me, i’ve been through a lot, my trust is damaged.”

you snorted before you could even think to stop yourself. your eyes widened as you made eye contact with nathan whose shocked face did nothing for your confidence. an apology was about to come out of your mouth before he changed the topic and pretended like nothing happened.

the rest of the date went so well, you exchanged numbers at the end of the afternoon. it was a little odd when you saw his phone, it looked older than you thought it should’ve, but maybe he was an old soul and didn't want the newest iphone just because he could have it.

on the second date, a week later, you met up on your side of the hudson. you were fresh from practice while nathan took his lunch break to see you.

his phone kept buzzing on the table, but he brushed them off as work emails, which made sense. he was a lawyer, he probably had hundreds of emails to answer on a regular basis. when his phone started ringing, he held it kind of awkwardly in a way where you couldn't see who was calling. he held a finger up at you and excused himself from the table. 

you watched as he paced up and down the sidewalk, confused as to why he was so agitated. sure, you hadn’t known nathan long, but he didn't seem to be the type to frustrate easily.

your own phone vibrated on the table, and since nathan was on a phone call, you checked it.

mat barzal: when are you free next? i have raya matches and i need a girl’s perspective.

you: don't you have teammates?

mat barzal: they’re all practically married.

you: i’m failing to see the disqualifications

mat barzal: they’re all dudes, they don't know what they're talking about

you: and i do?

mat barzal: you’re a girl, aren't you?

you: i’m not even going to dignify that with a response

mat barzal: photo attachment

when you opened the text, it was a picture of what you assumed was child mat in hockey gear. 

mat barzal: would you say no to this face?

you: i’m on a date, but when it ends, i’ll call you.

mat barzal: :)

nathan came back in, looking more flushed than usual. “everything okay?” you asked.

“huh? oh, yeah, just a work thing.”

you blinked. “seemed a bit intense for work...”

he shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “it’s just a lawyer thing.”

the lunch continued for another twenty minutes before he rushed off saying he had to get back to work. he pressed a sweet but brief kiss to your lips and promised to call you.

there was no reason to not believe him.

as you walked out of the restaurant, you pulled up mat’s contact and called him. he picked up on the second ring.

“hey! are you free?” he asked.

“just left my date.”

“oh...sorry, did i interrupt?”

you smiled despite yourself at the slight apologetic tone in his voice. “no barzy, you did not, he had to go back to work.”

“oh...so you’re free? right now?”

“yep, just headed back to my apartment. do you wanna come over?”

“yeah, just send me your address.”

an hour later, you were buzzing mat up to your apartment. he immediately started scrutinizing the space. it wasn't much, probably nothing like he was used to considering the giant salary gap between the two of you, but it was lived in. your grandmother’s quilt lay across the back of the couch you saved for. you'd thrifted the floor lamp and the rug (and the money you saved on it went to getting it professionally cleaned). on the coffee table was a candy jar full of only red starburst, the others were in a gallon sized ziploc bag in your pantry.

“cozy,” mat said.

“i know it’s not much—”

“do you like living here?” he asked.

you nodded.

“that’s what matters. that it feels like home.” he pulled his phone out and pulled up raya. “can you help me with this? the guys keep mentioning wife material and telling me i’m not gonna meet a wife on a dating app.”

you rolled your eyes. “your teammates have also been dating their wives since high school so i wouldn't take everything they say so seriously.” your thumbs began scrolling through his matches, taking mental notes of the girls flying across the screen. “not this girl,” you said, showing him a picture of a red head.

mat’s eyes widened. ”what? why? she volunteers at the animal shelter!”

“taking a picture at the animal shelter and volunteering at the animal shelter are two different things. besides, it’s the fact that all her group photos are with guys, not a single girl spotted.”

“so? she says she's one of the guys.”

“and in girl words, that means she’s dealing with a lot of internalized misogyny and might be a pick me. she’d probably see any woman in your life as a threat.”

“huh.”

“and this girl,” you showed him another one of your matches. “she seems nice, but if you look in the background of one of her photos, there’s a rangers jersey on the floor.”

mat physically recoiled like you'd just slapped him.

“but the other girls seem fine, especially this grace girl, she seems cool.”

“thanks, twitch,” mat said reaching for his phone.

you picked yours off the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. “wanna watch a movie?”

mat nodded and watched as you put on the mighty ducks. sure it was a bit on the nose and the two of you had already been submerged enough in hockey culture, but you were ready to turn your brain off and just be a kid again. besides, the two of you would probably end up scrolling on your phones most of the time anyway.

you opened instagram and saw a dm notification from an account you didn't follow. hesitantly, you clicked on the message and promptly felt you stomach drop to your ankles.

hey girl, the message started. the guy you’ve been seeing, nathan, is my fiancé, we’ve been dating since high school. i would really appreciate if you ended things with him.

“oh my god,” you mumbled.

“what? have you never seen this movie before? it always starts like this,” mat laughed. his laugh stopped short when you showed him the message. “shit.”

“yeah,” you said. “shit.”

mat’s girl one: lauren

the final buzzer sounded, signifying the end of the game, a 4-2 win over toronto at prudential. alex skated over to you first, wrapping you in a hug and patting your helmet. “good job, twitchy,” she smiled. your other teammates followed suit.

jess was last, embracing you as tightly as she could with both of your pads in the way. she skated alongside you back to the locker room. while you loved being one of the three stars of the game, you were glad you weren't chosen that night because nothing sounded better than showering and going home.

after the game debrief in the locker room, you rushed to the showers to scrub the layers of sweat off your body. only when you felt human again, did you get dressed into your sirens sweatsuit. sure, maybe you should've put your cute outfit on again, but you could already feel how exhausted your body was and couldn't imagine putting on an underwire bra and real pants after the game you just had.

on your way to your car, you checked your phone for the first time since getting to the arena. your mom and dad were the first texts you saw, both apologizing for not being able to make the game tonight and inviting you over to dinner the next night.

the most recent text was from emma maltais who told you to let her score next time just because you used to be on the same team in college. after all, weren’t you both forever buckeyes?

but it was the fourteen texts from mat that caught your eye. they all ranged in length with most of them being short exclamations and questions. the last text just read:

mat barzal: can you call me asap? i think i’m losing my mind.

as soon as you got in your car, you called him.

he picked up on the second ring.

“do i need to go to college?” he asked immediately.

what. the fuck.

“huh?” was the only intelligent response you could give him.

“do i need to go to college?”

“mat, what the fuck are you talking about?”

a loud sigh echoed through your phone as you pulled out of the parking lot. “you know how i went on a date tonight?”

“yeah, with that lauren girl, right?”

“mhm, have you read any of the texts i sent you? i feel like that would make more sense.”

“i’m driving right now, i just saw your text asking me to call you, i hadn't had time to go through the rest of them. why? what happened? was she secretly a serial killer?”

“what? no! she said hockey is barbaric and started quoting cte statistics to me.”

“what the fuck? who does she think she is?”

“she’s about to graduate from med school.”

“and she was on raya?”

“...she has a following on tiktok doing ‘days in the life of a med student.’”

if you weren't driving, you would've face palmed. “and she was telling you about how unsustainable a hockey career is?”

“she said i’d retire at thirty-five and probably have a mid life crisis that would be exacerbated by head injuries and how rough i’ve been on my body so it’s probably best that i look at going to college to find a real job.”

“oh my god—”

“so should i go to college?”

you sighed as you pulled up to a stoplight. “mat, how long have you known this girl?”

“...um, a week?”

“you're gonna let a stranger convince you to spend money on a degree you probably won't use? you get chirped a thousand times a night and yet you're not contemplating quitting the game just because someone you've played against for years says you suck.”

he paused, the only sound on the other side of the phone was his breathing. “okay okay, you're right. god i don't know why i freaked like that.”

“i don't either, you don't know this girl, you don't owe her anything.”

“what’re you doing tomorrow?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. “do you wanna come to my game? i’ll get you a ticket.”

“i’m getting dinner with my parents tomorrow—”

“your parents can come! i’ll get the tickets for all three of you, if you think they’d be interested.”

if they’d be interested? what a joke! your mom and dad had been isles fans as long as you'd remembered. when you were growing up, your dad said you should play for the isles if they weren't going to make a women’s league.

“first woman to play on an nhl team would be quite the honor, don't you think squirt?”

“i’m sure they would love to be there, mat. thank you.”

you could hear his grin through the phone and imagined seeing his eyes squint from his big smile.

“i’ll send you the tickets.”

you woke up the next morning with a text from mat with the tickets enclosed; you shot back a quick thank you, and that you'd see him later.

when you called your parents the night before and gave them the news, they were ecstatic, asking a million questions about how you knew mat barzal, why he was giving you tickets, why you hadn't told them you knew him earlier. you'd told them you'd drive to their house after morning skate and you could walk to ubs together.

more than anything, you were excited to see sidney crosby playing up close. mat had gotten decent tickets after checking to see how close to the ice you'd want to be. he even told you to meet him at ubs before heading to your parents so you could get the family passes to come to the locker rooms after the game. you weren't sure why he was being so nice, but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

you waited in the parking lot of ubs, leaning against the driver side door when mat sped into the lot and parked, rather chaotically, two spaces away.

he hopped out in his game day suit with mostly dry hair and three passes in hand.

“hey,” he smiled. and if nathan’s grin was a thousand watts, mat’s could power the entire island alone. “here are the passes.”

you took them from his hand with a matching grin. “thanks, mat.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “no problem. you got the tickets, right?”

you nodded. “they’re in my phone.

“great! i’ll see you later then?”

“try not to fall down this time, barzal.”

“no promises,” he said. “is that what you're wearing to the game?”

you glanced down at the black sweatshirt, jeans, and black and white dunks. “is this not fashion forward enough for you?”

“i don’t know, black’s not really an isles color...” he teased. “if you need any gear, i’m sure i can find a jersey—”

“i’m sure my dad has a t-shirt i can wear if it would really mean that much to you.”

mat slapped a hand over his heart. “would you do me the honor of not wearing the colors of the team i’m playing against? i would really appreciate it.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“only for you, twitch.”

you laughed and shook your head. there was a moment where it looked like mat lit up at the sound of your laughter, but you were probably reading into things.

“i’ll see you after the game?”

he nodded. “see you then.”

you left him in the parking lot and headed down the street to your parents’ house. to no one’s surprise, they were both fully dressed and ready to go to the game that didn’t start for another four hours.

“how do you know mat barzal, sweetheart?” your mom asked as soon as you got settled on the couch. “i don't think you ever really explained it.”

“we met on the all star red carpet fan event. i was late, he was early.”

your dad cocked an eyebrow. “and he gave you tickets to a game after one interaction?”

you shook your head. “we ran into each other at the olympics, started talking more after that.”

“well, i think it’s very nice of him to invite us to his game tonight,” your mom replied, but there was a tone in her voice that had you looking at her suspiciously. 

“you're not dating him are you?” your dad asked flat out.

you choked on your own spit, hacking and coughing until you felt like you could breathe again. “what?! no! we’re just friends.”

“hm.” your parents hummed in unison.

it used to unnerve you how many times your parents did things in sync. walking, talking, humming together, they did it all. but they’d been married for thirty years, maybe it would've been odder if they weren't so in tune with each other.

the three of you watched a rerun of ncis before you started walking to ubs together. the walk was only twenty minutes, but the wind was brutal that evening. by the time you made it in the arena, you couldn't feel your face.

you made your way down to your seats and watched as the kids gathered in the space in front of you. mat wasn't fooling around, they were great seats, right behind the bench, across from the penalty box.

the area had cleared out mostly by the time the game started, leaving you and your parents to freak out about being so close to one of your childhood heroes, patrick roy.

god, you'd have to see if mat would let you meet him.

the game itself was an ugly one, ending in a win for the islanders, but it didn't really feel like one. it didn't take you playing hockey your whole life to know that there were penalty kills that should've never happened, sloppiness on both teams. hell, you probably didn't even have to be anything more than a fan to realize that.

nonetheless, you and your parents made your way down to the locker rooms where you saw a crowd of blonde women and their children. you could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel judgmental, just curious if anything.

there was no telling how long you waited before players started coming out of the locker room and greeting their partners. you recognized them all, but had never met any of them but mat, so you kept to yourself and your parents, looking up occasionally to look for mat.

when he finally walked out, you called his name and waved, cheesing like you did for your kindergarten school photos. in real time, you watched his face light up as he walked over to you.

“great game,” your dad greeted.

mat immediately stepped up and stuck out his hand to greet your father. “thanks, sir. it’s nice to meet you, i’m mat.” he looked at your mom. “and you must be twitch’s sister.”

on cue, you could’ve sworn your mother swooned. you rolled your eyes.

what a charmer.

you watched with a smile as your dad and mat talked about the game. your dad, while quite knowledgeable, was sensitive enough to not mention the multitude of mistakes made that night.

“we definitely need to clean up a little during practice this week,” mat started. “i think roy is gonna address it...”

you couldn't hear another word after he said patrick roy’s name, like you suddenly remembered mat was being coached by your childhood hero. you tugged on mat’s arm like a child asking for another cookie.

“mat,” you started. he immediately turned to look at you, his brows pulled together in confusion. “can i meet coach roy? please?”

“oh lord,” your mother said. “you’ve started it now, mat.”

“squirt, he's probably busy, mat’s already been kind enough to invite us—”

mat glanced over his shoulder to the locker room, then looked around the hallway, like he was taking attendance. “you wanna meet him?”

you nodded emphatically, bouncing on your feet.

mat placed a hand on your back. “i’ll introduce you.”

your parents eyed mat’s hand but said nothing. you were too busy hearing the rush of blood in your head to fixate on it. “squirt, we’ll meet you at the house, you too mat! join us for dinner if you’re not too tired!” they turned on their heels and headed out of the tunnel towards the exit.

mat led you towards the locker room, but made you wait outside while he glanced around to make sure there were no naked men inside. when the coast was clear, he gestured you to come inside.

you were practically skipping into the room.

patrick roy stood by one of the lockers talking to anders lee when you entered the locker room. your jaw dropped at being so close to the man whose film you watched over and over again on youtube.

“don’t be weird,” mat mumbled. “he's just a guy.”

“you shut the fuck up,” you mumbled in reply. “he’s patrick fucking roy.”

as soon as anders finished talking to roy, he started towards the exit, nodding at you (albeit a little confused) and clapped mat on the shoulder.

the hand on your back pushed you forward until you were just a few feet away from mat’s coach.

“barzy? what’s up?” patrick roy asked before his eyes landed on you.

mat pushed you forward a little more. “coach, this is twitch, she’s the goalie for the new york sirens.”

“you're literally my hero,” you blurted out. “you made me wanna be a goalie.”

to your relief, he smiled and stuck his hand out. “it’s nice to meet you, how’s the season looking so far for the sirens?”

“not too bad, we could definitely be doing better.”

“sounds familiar.” roy’s eyes cut to mat in a sarcastic way.

“well, you met him, we gotta go, though,” mat said, already leading you away from his coach. “don't wanna keep your parents waiting.”

roy’s eyes twinkled and his lips slid into a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. “it was nice to meet you, twitch.”

“you too!”

the hallway was mostly empty when you and mat exited the locker room. you glanced up at him and smiled. “oh my god thank you! i don't think anything will live up to this moment.”

he shrugged like he didn't just do the biggest favor for you. “don't worry about it.”

“do you think i could meet sorokin next time?”

mat guffawed and lightly shoved you. “don't get ahead of yourself, that would require you to come to another game.”

“deal.”

the two of you walked towards the parking lot mat parked in. “i’ll drive you home,” he said.

“you really don't have to come for dinner, i know you’re probably tired.”

he scoffed. “and miss out on the chance to get a home cooked meal and look at your baby pictures? never.”

“you're not gonna see my baby pictures.”

“i'm sure your mom would pull them out if i asked nicely.”

you shook your head. “nope. nope. nope. invitation rescinded. you can't come over.”

“not your house, you can’t rescind an invitation you didn't give.”

you groaned. “this isn’t fair, it’s not like i can go to your childhood home and look at baby mat pictures.”

he shrugged and opened the passenger door of his car for you. “you can always visit during the summer.”

you thought about it. “summer in vancouver doesn't sound bad...”

he smiled and shut the door behind you before walking around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. “just let me know, i’m sure my mom would be happy to have you. she’s always happy to host my friends.” he pulled his phone out. “can you put your parents’s address in?”

you typed in their address and handed the phone back to him while you picked at the dirt under your nails. mat pulled out onto the turnpike and down a few side streets until you were pulling up to the house.

“i’m sorry your date didn't work out.”

mat turned towards you. “huh?”

“your date,” you explained. “with lauren.”

“oh,” he said. “it’s fine. tonight made up for it.”

it took your mom no time at all to sell you down the river (read: pull out the photo albums). as soon as dinner was over, mat asked, and your mom immediately went and grabbed the albums without hesitating.

mat was all too giddy to see your photos, he was nearly bouncing in his seat when your mom came down the stairs, armed with blackmail material. 

“this was when she was six months old,” your mom started, pointing at different photos. when mat cackled and smirked at you, you knew he'd found the bathtub pictures.

a few pages later and mat’s eyes went wide as saucers as he looked in your direction. “why’re you dressed as an amish woman?” he cackled.

your dad smiled. “she went through an amish hyperfixation after we went to pennsylvania and saw an amish family riding in a horse and buggy.”

mat pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos, snickering to himself all the while. “this is so cute,” he said, pointing at a photo he wouldn't let you see.

your dad continued. “she even asked us to have candlelight dinner for her birthday because the amish don’t have electricity.”

mat couldn't stop laughing.

you shrugged, not even the slightest bit embarrassed. everyone had their weird fixations, yours happened to be the amish. “i tried wearing the dress with my goalie gear and cried when i couldn't,” you said.

mat continued to scrutinize the photos, flipping pages as he smiled. “you were so cute.”

for some odd reason, heat flooded your cheeks. but you brushed it off as a side effect of the glass of wine you had with dinner.

it was nearing 1am when mat finally said goodbye. you walked him out, not noticing the smug look on your parents’ faces.

“thank you for letting me crash your dinner tonight,” mat said, leaning against his car. “it was nice. your parents are great.”

you shook your head and smiled. “thanks for the tickets and the passes. the game was really fun, and i know mom and dad appreciated it.”

a cold wind blew that made a shiver run down your spine. mat took a step closer, then a step back, like he thought better of it.

“when’s your next date?” mat asked.

“not sure,” you said, scuffing the ground with your shoe. “haven't found anyone yet. you?”

he shook his head. “trying to focus on getting to the playoffs, can’t afford any distractions.”

you nodded emphatically. though his playoff run started before yours did, the urgency was still the same.

“let me know if you wanna come to another game,” he said.

before you could stop yourself, you were already shaking your head. “mat you don't have to—”

he held up a hand to quiet you. “you can make it up to me by giving me tickets to see you play.”

you smiled and couldn't stop. even as he got in his car and drove out of sight, you wore that smile inside, missing the knowing looks from your parents.

“he’s nice,” your mom said, a strange tone in her voice that you paid no mind to.

“he’s pretty great.”

mat’s girl two: grace

when mat texted you that he had gone on a date with a girl named grace and was planning another one with the same girl, a strange sinking sensation happened in your stomach. you weren't overly familiar with the feeling. you just assumed it was because you hadn't eaten much.

when he facetimed you a few minutes later, you were shoving a handful of spinach and cheese in your mouth.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he asked. his cackle echoed through your kitchen

“it’s dino time,” you said through a mouthful of spinach.

mat blinked. “‘dino time?’ as in dinosaur?”

“what else would it be for?” you scoffed. “c'mon mat, i know you grew up in canada, but you should've learned this in kindergarten.”

“okay sure, but why?”

“why what?”

“why are you eating a handful of lettuce?”

“...it’s spinach.”

mat dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “okay so it’s spinach. why are you eating a handful of spinach?”

“i saw a girl on tiktok doing it.”

“huh. and you do whatever people on tiktok do?”

you rolled your eyes. “oh get off your high horse, mat. i’m only doing it to get more veggies in. it’s not like i’m snorting cocaine because i saw the wolf of wall street.” only after you shoved more spinach in your mouth, did you ask another question. “why did you call anyway?”

“i was wondering if you'd be able to get two tickets to your game tomorrow.”

“who’s going?” you asked with your mouth still full of leafy greens. “you and bo? duclair? lee?”

mat rubbed the back of his neck. “i was actually planning on taking grace, if that’s okay.”

“oh,” you said, swallowing your spinach. there was that strange sensation in your stomach again. it was odd though, because you were eating, so the feeling should’ve been gone by now, right?

right?

“yeah,” you nodded. “yeah i can get some. i can also see if i can get passes so you can come down to the locker rooms after the game.”

he smiled brightly. “you’re the best, twitch. i’ll talk to you later?”

“mhm.”

he ended the call shortly thereafter, leaving you with your bag of spinach and a quiet room.

he planned on taking grace to your game.

suddenly the greens didn't taste as good anymore. but you had no idea why.

“you’re jealous,” jess deadpanned in the locker room a few days later.

you scoffed. “i’m not jealous. i’ve just been feeling weird.”

“and that all happened to coincide with when mat got a girlfriend?”

“one date hardly makes her his girlfriend.”

jessie eyed you, but you kept taping your stick as if you didn't see her in your periphery. 

there was no way she was right. you still texted the tickets to mat. but instead of meeting him outside like he did for his game, you sent one of the attendants out to give him the passes. your reasoning was simple: you weren't feeling well for some reason, and the idea of seeing grace in his passenger seat only made your stomach twist more.

“listen, all i’m saying is you might have a little crush. it doesn’t have to be devastating.”

devastating? devastating? 

devastating was losing 4 to 5 to toronto. devastating was smiling through the irritation and disappointment when emma maltais skated over after celebrating with her team.

devastating was not looking over at mat and who you assumed was grace standing at the glass, close enough that you wanted to vomit.

you were only halfway listening to your coach’s lecture after the game, knowing damn well it would lead to bag skating tomorrow. the idea of even touching the ice made you want to slam your head against the wall until you forgot about the game you just played. 

when you showered, you originally just stood there, letting the water drown you briefly before you actually washed your hair and body. there was no shot you were drying your hair, you were willing to risk getting a cold if it meant leaving that godforsaken arena as soon as possible. so you slapped a sirens beanie on top of your wet hair and walked out of the locker room.

only to be met with mat and grace standing outside.

fuck.

you'd forgotten about the family passes after three periods of shitty goaltending. the last thing you wanted to do was see mat after your performance that night. the only thing that could top it was meeting grace.

of course she was lovely, smiling at you and offering her hand when mat introduced her. you weren't an asshole, so you shook her hand and did your best to smile even though you wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off the loss.

however, you did your best to look as interested in the conversation, you pretended to be genuine when grace said you did a great job, that she had fun at the game. all her words should've lifted your spirits, but you didn't know her from a can of paint and you weren't up for conversation. maybe after the next game (that you'd hopefully win) you'd be more up for talking.

“hey,” mat nudged his foot with yours. “it’s not your fault.”

you rolled your eyes, even though they started stinging. “i should've blocked that last goal.”

“and your team should've scored or kept the puck away from you,” he said matter of factly. “the puck has to get through three forwards and two defensemen before it gets to you.”

“but if i���”

mat shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the bones there. “you're gonna keep yourself up all night overthinking this.” he leaned his head down to look you in the eyes. “it’s not your fault, you've gotta let it go.”

you scoffed. “i can’t just ‘let it go—’”

“you can, and you will if you wanna prevent yourself from making the same mistakes.”

you nodded. “thanks mat,” you mumbled, standing there in the moment until you remembered grace was right there. “it was nice to meet you, grace,” you said, doing your best to smile at her without it looking like a grimace. “maybe next time, we’ll win and i’ll be in a better mood.”

she smiled so bright that it nearly blinded you. “no worries, i look forward to your next game.”

“i’ll see you later, mat,” you said. with your goalie bag on your shoulder, your tired legs started to carry you down the hall towards the parking lot, but a hand reached out and slipped the bag off your shoulder.

“i’ll walk you to your car.”

“but grace—”

“she can come with, right, grace? we’ll drop twitch off and then i’ll drive you home?”

you and mat glanced at her, she seemed frozen in her spot, but she slipped a smile on her face with minimal faltering. “that’s fine,” she said.

mat carried your bag all the way to your car and tossed it in the trunk without breaking a sweat. when he closed the trunk door, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “text me when you get home,” he said.

“you're the one with the hour long drive, mat. you should text me when you get home.”

he laughed and tugged on the ends of your hair. “will do. let me know what your schedule looks like this week!”

you nodded as he walked away and watched as he took grace’s hand. your stomach lurched again, but you wrote it off as a side effect of losing that night.

but the sight of mat and grace reminded you of the bet you'd made at the olympics.

you still had some falling in love to do.

guy three: peter

when you were in high school, you watched a movie called serendipity and fell in love with love. the idea that the right person could be in front of you the whole time made your sixteen year old heart beat like wild.

so when you ran into your ex, peter, at a coffee shop in manhattan, you knew it was your moment.

he was the one.

he had to be.

god and to think you two broke up in college and somehow found your ways back to each other? it had to be a sign.

“it’s not a sign, it’s a coincidence,” emma said over facetime.

you rolled your eyes. “how else would you explain him being in manhattan now? i met him when we were at osu.”

“just because you exchanged numbers again doesn't mean you should date him.”

“we ran into him in the most densely populated city in america, emma. i don't think that’s by chance.” you inhaled. “besides, i think he’s changed. i know i have. maybe it was the right person at the wrong time.”

emma blinked like she didn't believe you. “what does mat think?” she asked.

that was an odd question.

“what do you mean? why would he care?”

she shrugged. “i just thought you two were talking to each other about your dates. thought he might have an opinion on the matter.”

“eh, haven’t spoken to him much.” and truthfully you hadn't. between practicing, games, and dates with peter, you two hadn’t spoken in about a week and a half. which, for anyone else, wasn't that deep, but for you and mat, it was a little strange.

“maybe you should fix that,” emma said.

almost like he knew you were talking about him, mat texted.

mat barzal: would you be up for a double date? you, me, grace, and pete?

that sounded like a comically bad idea.

you said yes anyway.

peter chose the restaurant after mat suggested meeting in manhattan, a suggestion he probably made with you in mind. it was a bit fancier than you would've liked. you were fully expecting on finding a little mom and pop hole in the wall with some indoor seating and calling it a day, but you should've known peter was more refined than that.

you were in a black dress with his jacket draped over your shoulders when you walked in the restaurant. mat had texted you earlier to let you know he and grace were already seated.

peter’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you back to the table. he plastered a polite smile on his face and whispered in your ear. “why did you agree to this?”

you shrugged. “thought it would be fun.” you glanced back with a smile on your face. “i think you'll really like mat, he's cool. and grace is nice too.” though, admittedly, you didn't know as much about her as you did mat. after all, he was the one you quieted the anxieties you were feeling about this date entirely.

“it’ll be great!” mat said as the two of you walked around a park. “you and i already get along,” he passed back your now peeled orange. you immediately shove three pieces in your mouth. “it would only make sense that our partners would also get along.”

not even peter’s cynicism could put a damper on your mood.

mat and grace stood as the two of you approached. mat hugged you first, then shook peter’s hand. you and grace waved at each other before you took your seats. mat pulled grace’s seat out before he sat down, peter was seated before you could even blink.

you shrugged it off, pulling out a chair wasn't that big of a deal. but you saw mat’s lips pull down in a frown before it was gone entirely.

“what’s good here?” mat asked. “i've never been.”

you glanced at the menu, your mouth started watering already. “the lobster ravioli looks good,” you noted. “god my stomach is growling already.”

peter made a noise in the back of his throat. “have you looked at the salads?”

you froze. in the corner of your eye, you saw mat’s head snap up from where he sat diagonally from you. “why would i look at the salads?” you asked. “i want pasta.”

peter shrugged. “just think the salad would be healthier.”

“so you can get a salad. i want pasta.”

“if i’m paying, i think you should get—”

“it's on me tonight,” mat interrupted. his eyes met yours. “get what you want, twitch.”

you closed your eyes and sighed when you felt peter tense up next to you at the mention of your college nickname. in your head, you said a little prayer that he would drop it, or at least wait until the two of you were alone to address it.

grace cleared her throat and smiled at you. “has your season gotten any better?” she asked.

grateful for the sudden change in topic, you smiled back. “it has, i feel much better now. sorry that you caught me on a bad night.”

“it wasn't that bad, twitch,” mat said. “it was an off night for everyone. you did the best you could.”

you shot him a grateful smile right as peter cleared his throat. “how’s your season going, mat? i’ve been trying to keep up but you play so many games and so does this one,” he nudges you. “it’s hard to keep track.”

mat shrugged. “we have to get better at putting pucks in the net, that’s for sure.”

“don't let his modesty fool you, peter,” you started. “mat’s on an eight game point streak right now. he’s killing it.” mat looked up and smiled at you. on reflex you smiled back at him until peter cleared his throat.

peter blinked, then gave mat a smirk. “must be cool playing for the rangers,” he said. “has to be the greatest team in new york.”

your brows furrowed right as mat’s jaw clenched. you'd told peter about mat, how he was a forward for the islanders, and was a strict rangers hater. so it was a mystery how he confused mat for a rangers player at all.

“i don't play for the rangers,” mat replied coolly.

“my mistake,” peter shrugged before taking a sip of water. “i assumed your team was the winning team.”

your eyes widened and you nudged peter in the arm. “can you chill please?” you mumbled.

grace, sensing the tension, turned the conversation back towards you. “mat told me you grew up on long island, is that true?”

you nodded and smiled widely, grateful for the topic change. “yes! right down the street from ubs. my parents and i walked to the arena to see mat play not too long ago.”

“it’s like a five minute drive,” mat chimed in.

grace nodded, then froze. “how do you know that?”

he shrugged. “we ate dinner at her parents’ after the game.”

you could cut the tension with a knife. based on grace’s thinned out lips, she wasn't necessarily enthused about the idea of mat eating with you and your parents. granted, you didn't think anything of it, but maybe it was cause for concern for her.

thankfully, the server came over and took your orders. you told the server you wanted lobster ravioli before peter could order for you and sipped your water as he rolled his eyes.

when the food came out, you were too busy eating to notice the looks mat and peter were sending each other or the way grace kept glancing back and forth from you to mat. the lobster ravioli was just too good to focus on anything else.

when the time for the check came, peter scowled when mat paid for it, but said nothing. your mood soured the longer peter was grumpy. by the end of the date, you were rushing him out the door, but not without waving goodbye at grace and hugging mat.

peter didn't say anything until you got into his car. “i didn't know mat had met your parents.”

you blinked. “i didn't think it was worth mentioning. do you want me to tell you that jess and ella met my parents on draft day?”

“that’s not the point and you know it,” he scowled. “and why is he calling you twitch?”

you shrugged. “because it’s what everyone calls me. he heard it from emma and jessie and it’s stuck since then. why is it a problem?”

he huffed. “i never said it was a problem.”

“you're acting like it is.”

“that’s because you're too old to be going by a college nickname. when you meet my coworkers, can you just give them your real name?” he asked.

there was a sinking sensation in your stomach that you hadn't felt since you were twenty. “sure,” you tried to smile. “if it’ll make you happy.”

two days later, you were drying your hair after a 2-1 loss against montreal. peter had texted you earlier that week asking for days you were available to hang out with him and his friends.

truthfully, you didn't want to, especially after losing. but peter was so sweet last night. he brought you flowers, though you weren't really a fan of daisies, a bottle of his favorite wine, and pizza from a place down the street from your apartment. he let you pick the movie out and said you were beautiful.

you were willing to endure a night with his finance bro friends because he sacrificed his free time last night to see you.

you put your walk in outfit back on and sighed when you looked in the mirror. the last thing you wanted to do was go to a bar where you only knew your boyfriend.

but love was about sacrifice, right?

you drove home and ordered an uber to the bar in manhattan. when you finally arrived, it took you a second to realize where your boyfriend was.

he was propped against the wall while one of his friends was shooting pool. peter kept talking and didn't notice you walk up until you were right next to him.

“oh hey!” he kissed your cheek, which made you grin just a little. he was so sweet and you loved the affection. “how was your game?”

your smile faltered. “you didn't watch it?”

a light bulb went off in his mind. “oh, i mean, they had the islanders game going on, so i didn't get a chance to see it. i’m sorry, babe. i would’ve if i could’ve.” 

you nodded, not wanting to fight in public. because your game ended over an hour ago, and peter, according to your texts, had only been at the bar for forty-five minutes.

he seemed to take your silence as a sign that you were okay and ushered you forward towards his friends. “guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said before looking at you, expecting you to introduce yourself.

you waved and said your name. peter’s friends nodded back at you and got back to their game. peter was cheering as one of his friends, whose name you didn't know, shot a ball in the hole.

“peter,” you said over the loud music. “peter!”

he finally glanced at you, eyebrows raising like he just remembered you were there. “yeah?”

“i’m going to get a drink,” you said.

he nodded before turning back to the game.

your heart sunk as you walked to the bar, dodging bodies like your teammates did on their way to the net. in your backpocket, you could feel your phone vibrate. you reached back and pulled it out, smiling when you saw a text on your screen.

mat barzal: do you feel as shitty as i do?

you pulled up the nhl app and saw the score. a 4-5 loss against the rangers.

stupid fucking rangers.

you: i feel like absolute dog shit. like the kind i would have to pick up when i took benny on walks.

mat barzal: who’s benny?

you: my childhood dog, sweet as can be, but took massive dumps on every walk.

mat barzal: what’re you doing now?

you: at a bar with peter and his friends.

mat barzal: ...that’s fun?

you laughed at his message. 

you: if only, but i’m hopeful it’ll get better.

mat barzal: where are you right now?

you dropped him a pin.

you: why?

mat barzal: i’m like five minutes away, would it be weird if i joined you?

probably yes, given how mat and peter’s last interaction went, but you glanced back at your boyfriend who was laughing with his buddies. he didn't notice you'd been gone for almost ten minutes now.

so maybe you were feeling petty, but you didn't care at that point. maybe you'd pay for it later, but the price of not feeling alone in a dive bar was worth any tension that would inevitably come.

you: it wouldn't be weird! i’d actually appreciate some company right now.

mat barzal: bet.

you were alone for another seven minutes before you saw a mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors. you watched as his eyes searched the room until they landed on you. it was like someone flipped a switch, the way his face immediately lit up at the sight of you. the very sight made your stomach twist in a way that had you buzzing in your seat.

mat shoved his way through the crowd of people before he flagged down a bartender and took the seat next to you.

“hey,” he huffed, out of breath.

you laughed. “did you run here?”

he shrugged, even as his cheeks turned pink. “maybe. that’s not the point. what’re you drinking?”

you held up your half empty cup. “moscow mule.”

“you want another?”

you let mat buy you another drink. you let him pay for it. you let him ask you about how the game was and in turn, you asked how his went. you let him tell you about bo’s kids as well as matt’s, how the bet was going, how grace was doing.

he seemed ambivalent to that last conversation topic, the spark in his eyes when he talked about his teammates died quickly.

“i don't know,” he said, tracing the bar top with his pointer finger. “things are good.”

“but?” you asked.

“but i thought falling in love would be different.”

your heart lurched in your chest, your stomach twisted like you were about to vomit. there was no reason for it though, maybe it was the alcohol?

“you're in love with her?” you managed to get out.

he shook his head, and the pressure building in your chest lessened. “no, but maybe i should be.”

mat’s eyes looked past you, when you turned around, you saw he was staring at peter and his friends. “do you love him?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for you and only to hear.

the truth was, you used to when you were in college. you thought he hung the sky, the moon, and the stars. you thought he put the earth into motion. he was your sun. but now things were different, he was different, you were different. it was like a piece of a puzzle that almost fit but not completely, like you were forcing it into a spot and saying it was close enough.

“i don't know,” was the answer you settled for. “maybe in time, i will again.”

mat let out a breath. “but you don't right now?”

“not yet.”

he nodded.

a beat later, an arm slid around your waist that had you tensing until you heard his voice. “hey sweetheart, you'd been gone for a moment, i got concerned.” you could hear the tension in peter’s voice as he spoke to you. if you were a betting woman, you'd gamble your bottom dollar on mat being the reason for it.

“pete, hey,” mat said with a wave.

“it’s peter,” your boyfriend said. “hope you’re not feeling the sting of a loss too bad, mat.”

you whipped your head around to look at peter, confusion written all over your face. “you watched the game?”

peter shrugged like he barely heard you. he wasn't looking at you anyway, his gaze was locked on mat. “we pregamed before coming here.”

“you watched the rangers play but couldn't watch my game?”

but he didn't even acknowledge what you said. “it was nice seeing you mat, but me and my girlfriend are going to go play pool. have a good night.” peter steered you away from the bar and back towards the pool tables.

it was like someone was draining the life out of you like one would tap a tree for sap.

“i think i’m gonna go home,” you said, pulling away from peter. “i’m really tired and i have practice tomorrow.”

peter’s brows pulled together, he frowned. “but you just got here. i barely got to see you.”

“that’s because you were playing pool with your friends. i’ve been here for over half an hour, peter. i lost tonight and i just wanna go home and lay on the couch and watch trashy reality tv.”

“fine,” he huffed. “i’ll see you later.”

you went on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, but at the last minute he turned his head away so your lips met his cheek instead. you stepped back, a little hurt before you spun on your heels and headed for the exit.

“you're leaving?” you glanced over your shoulder and saw mat shoving past people to get to you.

“yeah,” you said. “i’m tired and wanna get in bed.”

“have you ordered an uber yet?”

you shook your head.

“let me ride home with you, i don't want you going home alone.” you were already shaking your head, telling him to catch uber back to long island, but he held a hand up. “it’s late and i don’t want to have to tell your mom that i let you catch an uber back to your apartment without making sure you got there safely.”

you held up your phone. “i can give you my location.”

“not good enough. i need to see you walk into your apartment building.”

“seriously, mat, i’d feel bad that you're adding more time to your commute.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “don't think of it like that, just think of it as me wanting to spend more time with you.”

the ride back to newark was short, but you felt bad knowing that mat had an hour trip back home because of you. but he shrugged your worries off and said he'd text you when you got home.

that night, after your second shower, after crawling into bed to watch the bachelor, you went to sleep smiling.

your mood over the next two days fluctuated, with you rarely hearing from peter. if you got any response, it was strictly five words max per text message. and each message took him at least thirty minutes to reply.

safe to say, when you arrived at prudential for another game, you were ready to devour the red starbursts you saved in your goalie bag.

except the bag was empty.

and really it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, but you'd been eating red starbursts before every game since you were six and your mom stopped caring about red dye 40. your shaking hands reached for your phone and hit peter’s contact. 

the phone rang and rang and rang and rang only to go straight to voicemail.

so you called again.

same thing.

so you called again.

same thing.

you called one more time and it went straight to voicemail.

peter: can you chill? i’m busy.

you: i need red starbursts. do you think you could bring me some?

radio silence.

so you waited five, ten minutes. and not a single reply.

you: peter? will you?

peter: i’m busy. why don’t you get that?

tears welled up in your eyes. you were starting tonight, you couldn't afford to not have the candy. what if you lost because you didn't have them? would the whole team blame you? you know you would.

you walked into the hallway and scrolled through your contacts. you hit the contact of the person you were searching for.

two rings.

“hello?”

“mat,” you sniffled, trying to keep the crying to a minimum, thankful you'd gotten there early enough, no one else was in the locker room. and no one was in the hall.

“hey, you okay? are you crying?”

“can you do me a huge favor?” you asked.

“anything.”

“can you bring me red starbursts? i tried asking peter but he’s busy and my parents are at work still and—”

“i got you, don't worry. where do you want me to meet you?”

a sob escaped your lips as relief crashed over you. “thank you thank you thank you, mat. just call me when you get here, and i’ll meet you.”

he was there in forty-five minutes with a ziploc bag stuffed full with your favorite candy.

you about tackled him in the hallway. “how did you get down here?” you asked, bouncing on your feet as he handed the bag over.

“apparently my face is familiar,” he joked. “when i told one of the social media interns i was here for you, she led me down here.”

without even thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for the tightest hug possible. “i owe you one. seriously.”

when you pulled back, his cheeks were a light pink, something you could've read into had jess and ella not come bounding down the hallway.

“twitch! who is this?” they asked, wide smiles on their faces.

“no,” you mumbled. “mat, run.”

you tried pushing him away, but he turned around and smiled at your teammates. “i’m mat,” he said.

jess’ lips formed a smirk. “i’m jess, the best friend.”

“ella, the other friend.”

“are you staying for the game?” jessie asked, mirth rolling around in her irises.

“he can’t he's busy—”

“sure,” mat smiled. “i’d love to.” he turned back to you. “are your parents coming?”

you nodded, a little sheepishly. “they have my tickets—”

“you can have mine!” jess cut in. “they should be next to yours anyway.”

“you really don't have to come, mat—”

but he shrugged. “i’d love to. do you think your mom would cook again tonight?”

“i’m sure if you asked, she’d make a five course meal just for you.”

you missed the looks passed back and forth between jess and ella, only focused on the way mat’s lips curled up into a smile. “then i’ll see you out there, twitch.”

as he walked away, jess and ella smirked at you, waiting until he was fully out of sight (and earshot) to shriek at you.

“he’s eaten dinner with your parents?!”

“shut up,” you groaned, walking back into the locker room. “it’s not that deep.”

“girl, what was he even doing here?”

you held up the bag of starbursts. “i ran out.”

jess paused. “...and he brought you some?” she reached for the bag, testing its weight in the palm of her hands. “girl, this is like several packs worth of starbursts.”

you shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. “he was being nice.”

but when you skated out for warm ups and saw him sitting next to your parents, you could see the blue of the sirens jersey he was wearing, you could see your number 26 on his sleeves. he was leaning down to listen to what your mom was saying when you skated past their seats.

your parents were sporting a homemade t-shirt of you in goalie gear at the ripe age of six, if you had to guess. on any other day, you wouldn't have felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but something about mat standing next to your parents wearing those shirts felt a little too intimate. it felt like something peter wouldn't be happy about if he found out.

the same peter who brushed you off, you reminded yourself.

suddenly, you cared a little less.

you skated to the crease and started scuffing it up before prepping for the rest of the warm ups.

by the time the game ended, you were exhausted. it ended in a win, something you were grateful for. ottawa put up a good fight, but you felt every one of those twenty-three shots on goal in your bones. you were so tired, you didn't even bother checking your phone, you just shoved it in your back pocket and walked outside of the locker room.

what you saw in the hallway had to be some sort of nightmare. standing with your parents was mat, jess, and ella all of whom were pointing at the homemade shirts they wore.

you immediately started walking towards them.

“you have to make me a shirt next time,” mat quipped.

““no—” you cut in.

“of course, mat! if you come over afterwards, you can pick which picture you want on your shirt!” your mom crooned.

your eyes widened. “mom no—”

but mat was already smirking and cutting you off. “i have just the picture in mind.” 

jess’ eyes brightened, like a lightbulb went off above her head. “is it the amish picture?”

he shook his head and smiled. “nah, i got a better one.” when ella and jess opened their mouths to ask, he shook his head again. “and it’s a secret. you'll all find out one day.”

you laughed while your teammates rolled their eyes. it wasn't long before they were saying their goodbyes and walking out while you, your parents, and mat just stood around.

“you know, mat,” your dad started. “the offer still stands if you want to come over for a drink.”

mat’s eyes met yours. a silent are you going? passing between the two of you.

you thought about how you should probably go home, how you'd be better just going to your apartment instead of driving an hour to your parents’ house.

but your parents made cute shirts and sat in the arena cheering you on like they had been doing for years.

“your call, barzy. but be warned, we will probably play spades. so if you're game—”

“i’m down,” he smiled.

which is how you ended up throwing cards at mat because your parents set the two of you in the card game.

“what the fuck mat!” you yelled, but it was drowned out by your parents cackling and mat groaning.

“language!” your mom chided.

mat threw his hands up at your accusation. “i've never played this before! your parents have been playing together for years!”

“not an excuse!”

“oh c'mon, squirt, don't be such a sore loser, it’s mat’s first time playing.”

you huffed and sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “i don't remember being this bad,” you said.

“you were a concussed fifteen year old, i doubt you remembered much from that time,” your dad quipped as he shuffled the deck of cards.

mat choked on a laugh that he quickly stifled when he saw your glare. you opened your mouth to retort when your phone started vibrating in your back pocket.

peter.

you sighed and held your phone up. “i've gotta take this, i’ll be back.” you pointed at mat. “make sure they don't cheat.”

mat held his hands up. “i wouldn't even know how they could cheat at shuffling cards, but okay.”

you stepped into the living room, just far enough for a little privacy, but close enough to monitor what was being said by your parents. “hello?”

“where are you?” peter asked immediately. “i tried ringing your doorbell but you haven't buzzed me in. i’m freezing my ass off, here.”

“huh?” you asked, wondering if you heard him wrong.

“i’m outside your apartment,” he sighed.

“wait,” you said. “why?”

a moment of silence and then a deeper sigh. “to apologize. i feel like you were angry with me earlier. so i wanted to make things better.”

you blinked. “so you're at my apartment?”

“with daisies, your favorite. so, are you going to stop ignoring me and let me in? it’s way too fucking cold for this, baby.”

you grimaced at the idea of telling him the truth. “i would peter, but i’m not in jersey right now. i’m in elmont, with my parents and—”

mat’s loud ass laugh cut you off.

the silence on the phone was deafening.

“is mat there? was that him?” peter’s voice was cold in a way you hadn't heard before.

“yeah,” you said, not seeing an issue with it. “he's here. we’re playing spades.”

a long pause. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are you at your parents’ house with another guy? can you tell me how that makes sense?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and moved upstairs to your bedroom so your parents and mat couldn't hear. “we’re just playing a card game—”

“why is he there?”

“because he came to my game,” you said.

“why was he at your game?”

“because he didn't hang up on me when i asked for red starbursts, peter.”

“oh my god,” he groaned. “i was in a meeting! you seriously can't be mad at me for not getting stupid candy for you this one time.”

“well, you asked why he was here and i told you. he brought me red starbursts, jess gave him one of her tickets, and my parents invited him over for dinner.”

“why?”

he couldn't be serious.

“because they're my parents, and they've never met a friend of mine that they didn't like. which you would know if you'd had more than three conversations with them.”

“oh don't turn this around on me, sweetheart. you’re the one with a guy at your parents’ house right now.”

“you know what?” you started. “i’m not even gonna entertain this bullshit. why did you stop by my place again?”

“to apologize!”

“for what?”

“i don't know,” he admitted. “i could tell you were mad and probably blamed me so i came to apologize for whatever i did to piss you off.” you could practically feel the sarcasm in his voice seeping through the phone.

“okay peter,” you said. “i’m going to hang up now because you're being an ass and if we continue this phone call any longer, you're going to be single. i’ll talk to you when i’m back in jersey.”

before he could say another word, you hung up and took a deep breath to steel your nerves. you took a moment to pull yourself together as you headed down the stairs and back into the dining room. 

“everything okay, squirt?” your dad asked.

you nodded and did your best to smile. “just peachy.” you walked back to your seat and pointed at mat. “don't fuck this up for me, okay?” you said. “i have a lot of pride riding on this game.”

“language,” your mom scolded.

but mat smiled anyway and slapped your hand out of the air. “wouldn't dream of it.”

mat left around 2am and you were asleep in your childhood room by 2:15.

[abnomi]

EVERY REASON (that i can think of) AS TO WHY TURBO/KING CANDY IS NEURODIVERGENT 💥💥

i would like to make a disclaimer first and foremost about the obvious, being that Turbo/King Candy is heavily implied to have narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). Very often, characters with these disorders are portrayed as villains, and Turbo is no exception to this. There's nothing wrong with antagonistic characters having said disorders, per se, but when the only representation available for people with these conditions are found in characters you're not supposed to root for, it can be really disheartening. i won't be erasing these parts of him because i feel it would be in poor taste to gloss over those core elements of who he is, but plz keep in mind that having any kind of personality disorder doesn't make anyone inherently evil!!!🌞 your ACTIONS make you, not your brain

Also if anyone has any suggestions or other ideas for his neurodiversity, i would love to hear them! please do share!! I LOVE PSYCHOANALYZING CHARACTERS AND HEARING OTHER PEOPLE PSYCHOANALYZE THEM !!!! YAY🎉 if u agree or disagree with any of my points I'd love to discuss them further :-]

without further ado... click read more to find out…😈 be ready for a lot of reaches

💥 ADHD 💥

STIMMING

Turbo's constantly moving around in some way; he's a very expressive character! even as King Candy, he can't seem to conceal his frequent giggling. it's a big habit of his; he seems to do it involuntarily to regulate himself, including when he's nervous or uncomfortable.

he seems to display other repetitive behaviors as well, like doing his iconic thumbs-up pose, sticking out his tongue, or hopping around gleefully. he is but a jovial court jester..

i personally like to think that his phrases, "Turbo-tastic!" and "Have some candy!" are vocal stims of his, although i equally really love the interpretation that these (and the aforementioned stims) are tics :-]

another headcanon; i think it would make a lot of sense for him to have an oral fixation of some sort (ignoring the whole sigmund freud part of the term ermm...); just lots of biting, chewing, needing to have something in his mouth. It would align with the whole idea that he smokes, too

HYPERACTIVITY

we can clearly see throughout the film that Turbo has a lot of energy, made abundantly clear by his mannerisms and general behavior. he's constantly moving, using exaggerated expressions and gestures to communicate + express himself. He's one of the most animated and bouncy characters in the movie, next to Vanellope! it's silly how a character not very grounded in reality is such a threat, but i suppose that's what makes him so threatening in the first place...

another factor in this is how he is very adrenaline-seeking, craving activities that give him a rush (sugar rush...😂😂). more on that in a bit!!

HYPERFIXATION

Turbo's fixation with winning is all-consuming for him; it's an obsession. he doesn't appear to care about much else, if anything besides it. this could be interpreted as a hyperfixation for him (or special interest if ur all about that autism lifestyle), as it overtakes all of his focus and impedes every process of his mind.

it's clear that racing is much more than a passion for him, and while that fact is due to how he was programmed, it's a major character trait of his regardless that could be correlated to neurodivergence.

HYPERFOCUS

There seems to be a big theme of "all or nothing" when it comes to Turbo. he will either be fully dedicated to something or brush it aside without a second thought. it can't be denied that he fully wraps himself up in what he wants, whether it's a conflict he can't let go of or a new pursuit he's hungrily chasing after. 

ultimately, his dedication varies depending on if it is relevant to him and his interests or not, but this aspect of him still shares patterns with neurodivergent thought processes.

INSTANT GRATIFICATION

Seeing as he has a tendency to cheat in his use of code to spawn in whatever his heart desires, it can be assumed that this could do with Turbo wanting instant gratification to fill that bitter, empty void inside of him. while this could simply be brushed aside as greed and his belief that he is obligated to have access to whatever he wants, this trait is consistent with his generally dopamine-seeking behavior and wanting to be instantly rewarded by his actions. His obsession with needing to feel good directly relates to his need for another buzz, constantly after the next rush. (a sugar rush if you will☺☺☺)

ADRENALINE-SEEKING

Closely related to the previous speculation, Turbo always seems to be chasing his next high. he loves the thrill of action and being surrounded by crowds of people below him. it's why his big thing is racing! people cheer him on, he can do whatever he wants, he can go really fast and look cool..

it's possible that a big aspect of why he does this is to distract himself from any kind of pain, because pain = vulnerability. bro does NOT know how to independently cope with his own problems.. HE MAD AS HELLLLL!!! 😂😂

STRUGGLE WITH SELF CARE

(i know this is reaching but bear with me... 🐻) going off of his appearance and tendency to make poor decisions, it can be gathered that this man lacks skill in the self care department. his yellowing teeth and sunken eyes not only serve to complement his design, but also give way to the idea that he neglects himself in favor for whatever weird scheme he's up to.

of course, Turbo does prioritize himself above everyone else, but he doesn't strike me as the type to care much about how others think he smells. him being a bother to anyone isn't a concern of his. he cares about whatever gets him the most praise and attention from as many people as possible, which is winning and racing. Who cares about how clean he is when he's up on a podium holding a shiny, golden trophy, anyway?

It's likely that he had to step his game up when he went under disguise as king candy, which is why he looks well-groomed in comparison to his more corpse-like appearance. Ugly hoe. it can also be assumed that he's had more time to focus on himself because everyone loves him without question... Well, except for Vanellope, but who cares about her, right?

also, i know he makes a condescending comment to Ralph about how bad his breath smells, but it's made abundantly clear that Turbo is a massive hypocrite. his comment doesn't erase the possibility that he has suffered from such "halitosis" as well.

💥 ANXIETY 💥

GENERAL ANXIOUS BEHAVIOR

i know, i know, this could technically be chalked up to be "Turbo is nervously giggling and shit because he's scared of getting caught," but guys. g

even in the flashback scene, we can see how easily stressed he can become in an alarmingly short period of time. he is extremely insecure, therefore i am led to believe he is not only emotionally dysregulated, but also by extension, anxiety ridden.

yes, this is purely speculative, but who's to say that he wasn't like this before? being high-strung and intense are significant facets of his personality consistently portrayed throughout the film. as long as he is getting exactly what he wants, he is happy; the moment he loses even a blip of control, however, he immediately grows extremely tense.

if Turbo wasn't anxious about his disguise as King Candy before, he was anxious about how much attention he was receiving on a given day. if not that, then he'd be anxious over how he presents himself. He hates how he can't control how other people perceive him, which is why he is constantly trying to act like he's better than he is.

its why he justifies his behavior to himself, proudly making others refer to him as the "rightful ruler" of sugar rush and relishing in the attention of his countless underlings. Any secure and stable person would NOT ACT LIKE THIS!!!!😭😭😭

FIGHT OR FLIGHT

As we can see a handful of times on screen, Turbo's instinct to protect himself is very easily activated.

 his fear manifests in anger and aggression. we can see at multiple points how easy it is to upset him or fluster him; his anger is one side of the same coin, the opposite end being his fear and paranoia.

Going off of this point, have you noticed that Turbo is either satisfied or furious without much of an in-between? how the second something isn't under his manipulation, he lashes out and fights back? I'm led to believe that this is how he responds to fear (AAUAAYAUUUUGGHHH 🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡). This guy is so against the idea of being vulnerable, that even when afraid, he will utilize violence to regain his dominance over the situation at hand.

CONTROL + PARANOIA

Turbo's always trying to writhe or fight his way out of uncomfortable situations, unable to exist outside of his comfort zone for seconds at a time.

his defensive, paranoid, and controlling behavior are all reflections of how deeply insecure this man is. He feels such an intense need for everything to go exactly how he expects it to go that the moment he senses any kind of threat, he instantly jumps to defend himself and what he feels that he has "earned," regardless of whether there truly is a threat or not.

this could potentially be a coping mechanism for his anxiety and sense of stability; can't forget to mention how territorial he is!! he jumps to conclusions about what others' intentions are before they even get a chance to reply, as seen with his first encounter with Ralph in the movie. 

the racer is so internally discombobulated that he seeks any sense of stability on his environment, including on those around him. his sense of self is so warped that he copes with constant distraction; being under the spotlight, being actively racing, having to be showered with attention, having others make him feel good because he doesn't know how to do it for himself. he needs to feel like everything is under control, lest everything falls apart.

"...if there's ONE thing I can't abide, it's ANYTHING out of order!"

💥 NPD 💥

INFLATED SENSE OF SELF IMPORTANCE

Turbo's most in-your-face trait above all else. It's made more than crystal clear in every scene he's in that his arrogance is a determining factor in how he interacts with others. This is exactly what drives him to desperately crave admiration, to chase after others he's envious of because he thinks he is obligated to take what they have.

he seems to genuinely think he is entitled to get whatever he wants, just because he is inherently "special" or "better" than everyone else. Why else would he have made himself a king, a step above princess?

EXCESSIVE NEED FOR ADMIRATION

Turbo's self worth is COMPLETELY dependent on the opinions of children and teenagers. I think i don't need to say any more than that, but i will. (Evil).

As cartoonishly massive as his ego is, i think that it's fair to assume that Turbo has a very unstable sense of self, distorting his perception of his own worth down with it. his near-constant flaunting and need to be the best is a dead giveaway to his deeply-ridden self-doubt. The foundation of his stability is built around how "good" he is (at racing and winning), how powerful he is, whether or not he is being prioritized above everyone else, whether or not he is the absolute best, etc. etc.

The racer outright manipulates others to shower him with admiration and undeserved appreciation. He is incapable of forming a true sense of internal value, instead heavily and codependently relying on others to form it for him. if he isn't the best, he may as well just be nothing.

INTENSE JEALOUSY

He reacts so severely to what he perceives as others taking away what is rightfully his that it only goes to solidify my previous points even further. the second someone else is getting more attention than him, Turbo will bend over backwards to rip back the praise he believes he so rightly deserves.

being extremely competitive, he will one-up against anyone he thinks of as a threat, dedicating himself to taking them down to the best of his ability, and making sure they STAY down to top it all off.

INABILITY TO HANDLE CRITICISM

if we really dissect the entire one-off joke with Turbo insisting that his stolen pink castle is actually "salmon," along with all of his other domineering behaviors, we can garner that he is very persistent in how he wants others to view him. i wholeheartedly believe that this would translate into him not only being defensive over his supposed "ownership" of Sugar Rush, but also over himself and his own insecurities.

He needs to feel good about himself or else he will die and quite literally try to kill everyone.

LACK OF EMPATHY

He appears to have a fondness for making jokes in very poor taste. Turbo has a big sense of humor, but it's always at the expense of others. Be it a pun about a "fungeon," or jumping to protect himself with a joke about "hitting a guy with glasses," he has a tendency to take serious situations very lightly. It's not that he's unaware of the weight of it; he simply doesn't take it Seriously.

its admittedly impressive how he was able to feign empathy so well for Ralph; it goes to show how he is very capable of understanding that what he's doing is wrong, but ultimately does nothing to change his behavior because it doesn't impact him personally. 

i would like to honor this part of him, because even in the possible alternate path of a redemption arc, his struggle with empathy can be explored in a variety of interesting ways :-] he can understand complicated emotions and situations on an analytical level, but he doesn't feel for them unless it has to do with him specifically. (this obviously doesn't make him inherently evil, his ACTIONS make him evil)

💥 ASPD 💥

LACK OF REMORSE/GUILT

One of Turbo's core characteristics is just how far he is willing to go for his own self-interest with lack of regard for how it impacts everyone else. he has absolutely no concern for how anyone else feels besides himself, willing to go so far as to attempt to mutilate a 9-year-old to achieve his petty goals.

Turbo is shameless when it comes to how he goes about getting his way. While I'd like to believe he isn't fully incapable of feeling regret, he doesn't showcase feeling it in the movie itself. The most regret he'll feel is when he slips up and exposes himself. anything else is the fault of everyone else; he is untouchable in his eyes.

DECEITFUL TENDENCIES + LYING

Where do i even start with this one.

well, first of all, let's acknowledge the... erm, horse? in the room? 🐎😅(Please someone help me there is a horse in my room help helphel) being that Turbo went under disguise as King Candy for at least a decade. Even before this, there's a good chance that he's already had plenty of experience with lies and manipulation. i'd be willing to bet on this!!

one of his specialties is being proficient in manipulation, be it the code of games or the minds of people. theyre basically the same thing to him, anyway... I'm sure you all know the scene where he uses 16 manipulation tactics against Ralph and wins. this was Obviously not the first time he'd done this.

REPETITION OF HARMFUL BEHAVIORS

Time and time again, Turbo can't seem to help himself when it comes to poor decision-making. he never internalizes that his bad choices aren't JUST bad for others, but also for himself, continuing to escalate further and further into very dangerous behaviors until he literally dies.

Here's a list of bad decisions he has made! (at least, that we know of)

Pinning himself above his peers

Harassment + stalking

Carelessly charging through GCS with his car, endangering countless civilians

Attempting to take over a game that isn't his x2

Vehicular manslaughter

Implied mass murder + attempted murder, attempted mutilation

Mass endangerment

Breaking and entering, theft, usurpation, plagiarism

and more!!!!!!!

AND HE LEARNS FROM ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THIS!!! with some of the items listed here, he's attempted to do multiple times! Absolute buffoon.

RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR SAFETY OF SELF AND OTHERS

Considering how he was willing to charge into a game that wasn't his own with the awareness that it could permanently kill him, going as far as to recklessly crash into another car (albeit it's possible this was unintentional), it's easy to gather that he doesn't seem to consider anyone's safety at all in the spur of the moment.

IMPULSITIVITY

his impulsivity and disregard for safety both go hand-in-hand. When it gets to a certain point, Turbo's emotions will boil over and blow up in a cold rage, thus causing him to spiral and act on impulse, becoming a detrimental force to himself as well as everyone around him.

What's interesting is how much restraint he is capable of; he typically is very strategic in how he orchestrates his plans! but once he reaches his breaking point, he snaps and leaves all of his hard work behind in favor of something that calls for his immediate attention.

💥 ETC. 💥

extra tidbits i didnt have enough energy to fully delve into :-]

BPD

Fear of abandonment

Blurry sense of identity

Feelings of emptiness

Self destructive tendencies

Emotional instability

Explosive anger

ODD (oppositional defiant disorder)

He seems so infatuated with his own autonomy that he gets to the point of being resistant and defiant

Resisting against the rules of the world that he directly caused as a result of his own actions, being that one shouldn't "go Turbo."

Enjoys upsetting/getting a rise out of others. this is more speculative as i am going off of the assumption that he thinks pissing people off is funny, based on his other behavioral patterns. (cruel sense of humor, wanting to feel above others via control & manipulation, enjoyment of inflicting pain onto others)

Forcefully defends himself and refuses any kind of criticism

Lashes out when he feels slighted

Excessive persistence despite all odds, whether it's beneficial to him or not

ok bye!! thank you if you managed to read this far ^^ peace and love take care of yourself! all in all turbo is so neurodivergent ok please Okay <3 get this thing his meds

[normal-creature]

Troy is SO fucking interesting because he's like. A societally worthless person (by capitalist standards). Held back in school, grades are probably atrocious, has absolutely no useful skills, barely functioning social skills. And yet, because he's so privileged, the useless skill he does have is enough to carry him through life. If his father is anything like we're imagining, he probably talks to Troy all the time about people who don't work hard enough, people who don't contribute to society, and Troy probably adopts the same contempt for those sorts of people as other members of his social class do without thinking about it. But in all ways except the luck of his circumstances, Troy is one of those people! Furthermore, I believe that's why Troy's father doesn't like him that much - Troy may not have the self-awareness to realise he's functionally no different from the "lowlifes" and "moochers" of society, but his father does. His father is probably disgusted that Troy grew into someone so stupid, so worthless, so completely unsuited for the workforce.

On a second watch of the first episode, it's clear Troy is definitely struggling with some sort of handicap, even if he doesn't realise it, though whether it's a case of nurture or nature is up for exploration. He might be socially inept because he never had to learn to make friends, his father was always there to make sure people were kissing up to him. He might be terrible at schoolwork because he has no interest in it, and why would he try when he can pretty much do whatever he wants with no consequences? On the other hand, he might be autistic, he might have ADHD, he might be dyslexic. Or he might just be stupid! That's ok too! Regardless of the explantion, whether his upbringing damaged his development or if there was always something different about him, it's clear something is holding him back - and I'm excited for the point when he realises that he doesn't fit into the society of Wonder any better than the hybrids of Reclaim do.

[d1s1ntegrated]

hiii im back again !!!

can i request shiggy hcs for a reader who chronically bed rots (i was trying to find a better word for it instead of chronically but alas) but they basically just stay in bed watching whatever and sleeping (forgetting to eat is also a habit of mine when i do it ;-;)? thank u <33

OFC U CAN!!! i am also a chronic rotter. i know how it feels bb i got u!

bed rotting x shigaraki hcs

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

the first time tomura saw you bed rot, he thought you were sick.

"are you okay?? are you getting up?"

when you explained you just...couldn't...he nodded and crawled into bed next to you.

he and you both understand it's not the healthiest, but he's no stranger to a bad habit or two.

so when he learns that some days are just gonna be harder than others, he prepares like a mf

we're talking doomsday prepping.

he and a few other league members will go out and steal a bunch of shit: snacks, water bottles, etc

charges all the electronics and makes sure there are chargers nearby

gets nice clean pjs to lay in for you

regardless of whether its related to a chronic illness, mental shit, or not, he makes sure he learns what you need, if anything during that time.

because thats what he would want for himself :( thats what he needed. he understands it

helps you brush your hair out (he kinda sucks at it but hes doing his best okay)

sleeps next to you when you're sleeping, because gods know he needs it too

especially likes to watch shitty animated movies with you when you guts are awake

will send you memes/posts instead of showing them to you even though you're right. there.

you guys dont have to say anything to each other for hours on end, and you're still content just being there together.

plays dumb games on his phone

shows you him bullying villagers off his animal crossing island to get you to laugh

"i fucking hate barold hes so fucking ugly GET OFF MY FUCKING ISLAND YOU PLEB" (sorry barold lovers shiggy is NAWT a fan)

if you forget to eat, he will also forget, until you hear his stomach rumble and you both go "oh fuck"

adhd mode as fuck

gotta keep the big lights off for this

if you're the only one in that headspace, he'll do his best to just be there for you and make sure you take care of yourself

even if that means dragging you by a foot to brush your teeth or at least have a quick rinse in the shower

cause he knows if you dont, you'll feel bad for not

but he's very gentle and understanding always, because hes been there

and he will continue to be there regardless

all he cares about is that you're at least safe and healthy with him

cuddles and kisses you incessantly

just loves being next to you always, this just gives him an excuse to be clingy

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

okay this was really cute, also helped me channel some of my own personal guilt ab bed rotting ;-;

thank u for the request <3

shit like this gives me the motivation to not only keep writing, but to be kinder to myself, because thats what shig would want. i hope this has the same effect for you guys.

love u all, take care of urself <3

[botanical-garden-system]

🌺Intro to the Garden🪷

Hey yall, we are the Botanical Garden System!

We like using this platform to basically post how our experiences with mental health impact us—whether this is ADHD, trauma, MDD, OCD, or any other issue we have fought with. Most posts will be surrounding psychological research in trauma and dissociation, experiences or symptoms I have had, and general psychology resources I have “sailed the seas” to access in my craving for knowledge

I left my asks open and made a post expressing my answers to questions [here’s the post talking about this more]. You can pretty much ask whatever!

Spam/Reblog account: @botanical-gardens-system (we will post our responses to reposts and wonderful comments you guys have added thru that now. I genuinely read every reblog and have teared up with the amount of stories, love, and comfort you guys have gotten from my posts).

Music account: @botanics-beats (It’s kinda dead rn, sorry yall)

Our spam/reblog blog is where we house all posts we reblog. Usually there isn’t much text unless I am reblogging a response someone posted that I found important. Generally everything is system-related, but it sometimes has repost of other stuff like memes or something political.

DNI Criteria/Boundaries:

There is no DNI. DNIs are kinda useless and instead I will just block you if I don’t feel like I want to interact with you, and feel free to block me if you think I am violating any of your DNI. I never check DNIs really and I’m sure not many check mine. Just please don’t be a dick.

Bodily we are 20 years of age, and we would prefer having minimal interactions with minors in any dm setting. This page is safe from NSFW posts and content, so it is safe for minors to interact with, but we would much rather private dms and conversations be with other adults.

Understand I do not care about syscourse. I think it is a useless argument and it’s very frustrating to know it encompasses a good 50-70% of all content I see on here. I do not care to entertain discourse or debates on what you think is right or not, that’s not at all what I focus on in my studies.

Regardless of beliefs, this is going to be a safe space, and I do not want anyone being rude to people who reblog or comment on my posts. If I am uncomfortable with you, then I will block you at my discretion. [More info about my “beliefs” on the “debate” shit]

While I am not enforcing it, I would kindly ask you NOT to tag my posts with syscourse. That’s not a tag I want my posts to be under because I generally do not want to be roped into arguments. I’m not gonna block you if you have/if you do, it’s just a preference! I know some people reblog my posts under the tag as awareness, so this isn’t really some hard rule or anything. This just isn’t really a debate account, and you don’t get to be a dick to me because of a fabricated discourse issue I couldn’t care less about.

Fun facts about us/More Info on us:

We are working on a bachelor’s in psychology and want a master’s in nursing!

The ultimate goal is a master’s in nursing with a focus in PMHNP and a doctorate in clinical psychology. Being able to fund myself well through being a PMHNP and enjoying my research/teaching/helping through clinical psychology would be the most fulfilling life I could ever ask for.

We are a huge advocate of sharing and distributing free educative sources, and we have entire folders full of nearly 100 different resources we will gladly share!!

Since we are so big in psychology, our entire account is more psychological-science oriented to better understand our’s and other’s personal experiences. Our approach is always going to be empathy and understanding first.

Identity wise, queer is the best way we can describe ourselves.

A lot of us are generally agender, asexual, and aromatic, but we do have some alters who are pansexual and/or are a separate gender. Generally we are transmasc-neutral and the safest pronoun would be he/him. Neopronouns and xenogenders are fucking awesome and some of us do in fact use them!!

We are currently in a happy relationship right now!

We are traumagenic and experience the higher end of the dissociation spectrum (DID).

We do know our “origin” term would be considered traumagenic concerning our personal history. Our dissociative experience is very complicated and we have often felt alienated within the community, so we try our best to share feelings we hope others find comfort in. Honestly have no idea how to keep up with headcounts because our system doesn’t fully work like that but at least 10 have fronted on numerous occasions.

If there are any other adult systems that would like to interact, I would be happy too!

We’re friendly, I promise!!! However, this account is our only social media-related connection. We do not talk outside of this blog and are not associated with anything else! That being said, we do not feel comfortable sharing our simply plural unless you are someone we know deeply.

Tagging system for organization purposes:

“ #Omg a hit tweet /silly ” (more like a personal record to keep track of my top posts so I can respond to everyone/look at them)

“ #Botanical

[daylight-the-bird]

I find it very fucked up that the Personality Database app claims that Gangle’s personality type switches all four letters when she switches from a low mood swing to a high mood swing. This is actually fucking crazy:

I am an INFP 4w5 myself and my personality type doesn’t switch any letters when I switch from a low mood swing to a high mood swing. I was an INFJ when I was in high school and my college ADHD disaster only made my personality type switch one letter. Gangle & “Manager Gangle” are the same person and thus both have the same personality regardless of whether she’s crying or she’s excited.

[liketolaugh-writes]

I have another writing question, I was wondering if you’ve done research to write autistic characters, or if you’re just using your own experience? I’m autistic as well and I’m certain that any main character in the fic I write, I’ll be writing them as autistic even if it doesn’t get brought up as a plot point anywhere. The problem is that I’m also ADHD,and-in terms of writing characters using my own experience-I don’t quite know what all is related to each diagnosis. So, I was wondering if you have any sources for autism? I know it’s a pretty controversial topic with so much stigma around it, and I want to make sure what I’m sourcing is actually accurate information and not something that sides with Autism Speaks or something like that, if you get what I mean. Thank you for your help 🙏

It depends on how much detail you plan on going into!

For the most part, for fandom purposes, I don't do a lot of formal research. In the beginning, I spent a lot of time on the #actuallyautistic tag on Tumblr, where you can find a lot of people talking about their experiences! It's a great way to get a wonderfully varied view on autism. (There's also really very little meaningful difference between autism and ADHD, and they're super comorbid, so I wouldn't worry about that.)

If you're going into more depth - for example, I'm also writing a novel starring a preteen girl with high support needs - then there are a few sources I'd suggest:

On ABA:

America's Most Popular Autism Therapy May Not Work - I haven't read this yet, but someone finally did a formal study on how harmful ABA can be.

Invisible Abuse

Confessions of a Previous ABA Technician - I'd recommend reading this one regardless of whether or not you intend to discuss it in your writing.

Why I Left ABA

On personal experience:

Ido in Autismland - Excellent first-person perspective on high support needs autism.

Carly's Voice - Agonizing read. I don't recommend it. But it's excellent as a writing resource.

I also follow pixierainbows on Tumblr! They're a nonverbal autistic adult with high support needs, and they talk about it a lot, as well as posting a lot of really pretty photos and art. (I'm not tagging them to be polite, but they should be easy enough to find.)

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[kitsune-pop]

i have feelings about b-127 from transformers one

(also spoilers for the movie)

I've seen plenty of discourse around b, we all have. "he's annoying and cringe!" "he ruins the movie!!" etc. I'm not here to talk about your personal preference in comedic relief. I want to talk about b in a way I haven't seen anyone do before (and if someone has tag me I wanna discuss things!)

tfo is pretty clearly a story about disenfranchised workers reclaiming their rights and autonomy. fairly cut and dry. orion and d-16 have different ideas on how to enact change, plot moves forward. but b does stand out amongst the cast as the only one who isn't completely destroyed by the revelation of sentinel's betrayal, nor does he go through a radical personality change like Orion, d-16 or even elita. he stays his lovable self

why is that?

b admits himself that he got reassigned to burn pit duty. he plays it off, but it's made abundantly clear that he's unhappy. his work station is treated like a dungeon, and it very well may be! they had to climb up 50 levels of trash just to get out! which begs the question; did they have to sneak past 49 other trash watchers? or did the other ones just ignore them?

are the sublevels only for the ones the enforcers don't like or have any use for?

I'm going to pivot to talk about myself and my experiences. (we'll get back to b in a sec) I am very neurodivergent. autism, ADHD, cptsd and likely others that I haven't figured out yet. it's hard for me to keep a job. whether it's overstimulation, rude customers callous or abusive management, I lose my job a lot

I've never once quit

every time I've been fired, it's come out of the blue. no warnings, no talk about "how to improve your performance." just walk in, walk out an hour later unemployed. and it's always over something that I have no real control over. and it's because I'm neurodivergent. I know it is. I'm loud, make obnoxious jokes, talk too much, pretty much everything b does

and I'm punished for it

it's always the same way; they find some way to shove me out of sight. I'm certainly not an amazing worker, but I follow the rules and make sure all my work is done before I clock out. I'm worth more to keep than to train a new person. so I'm sent to a department that no one goes to. or I get locked into a night shift that takes over a year for me to escape from only after the manager who put me there quit. I'm not stupid, I know why. I'm off-putting to neurotypical people. so I clam up, shut down, become an automaton for whatever company I work for

and it doesn't matter

my managers always find some mundane thing I did wrong literally months in the past and use it as an excuse to fire me. it's happened three separate times and I can even see my current managers gearing up to do the same thing

I'm b, and b is me

he represents the coworker you don't like, the obnoxious neighbor who's too nosy, the friend of a friend who tries way too hard to be funny. he's the guy who you shove in a corner and forget about and he deserves freedom and autonomy too

I deserve freedom and autonomy

we all deserve it, it is our right as human beings to not be viewed as pieces of a machine to be shattered beyond repair and replaced when necessary. regardless of whether or not you enjoy spending your personal time around me. Orion and d are both unsettled by b, but quickly realize that he just wants to have real, not garbage (literally) friends. and then they realize that, yeah he's annoying, but he's kind, big hearted and just an overall sweet guy

I wish someone felt that way about me when they see me so disassociated at my job I can barely register the words they're saying to me

I wish a single one of my previous managers understood that about me

I wish I didn't live in constant fear that my apartment, my cats and my food weren't all at risk just because someone doesn't like my vibe

is it any wonder why they stood up and fought for themselves? is it any wonder that d became Megatron when he realized that his superiors viewed him and all his protocol following glory as nothing more than trash to be pushed around? is it any wonder how angry he got when he realized he was a single simple mistake from being forgotten?

...sorry, I got a little emotional at the end there

b-127 in transformers one means a lot to me

not because I see myself in him

but because I see my loved ones in him