#still what else am i gonna do than my job?

[theemporium]

[3.6k] sometimes home is a place. sometimes it's a person. sometimes it's a bench that holds more memories than mat can fully handle, memories that are slipping through his fingers.

based on 'coney island' by taylor swift for the eras tour hockey fic challenge created by @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston!!

.

Present – November 2024 

Never in his life had Mat Barzal felt as pathetic as he did sitting on that bench in Coney Island.

It was cold as fuck, for one, which should have been expected on a day in late November in New York. The temperature was likely below freezing, the chill was starting to seep into his bones, and the jacket he had haphazardly thrown on was doing little to battle the weather.

Yet, it was barely a blip on his radar as the last few weeks properly washed over him. 

Despite the holiday season, there were (thankfully) not many people around to see Mat in all his pathetic and embarrassing glory. Most people were probably sane inside their warm homes, enjoying dinner with the people they cherish the most. It felt stupid to be envious of a city full of people but that is exactly what he was.

Because as Mat sat on that bench, staring out at the near empty beach, he felt like he was choking. 

On his feelings. On his memories. On his bitter resentment that, once upon a time, he was like those people.

That Mat used to have a warm home where he ate dinner with someone he fucking loved and cherished more than anyone or anything else in the world, but now he had lost that person. 

That he didn’t know where his person was or what they were doing, but they were doing much better than him as he sat on the same fucking bench where he first met them.

Where he first met you. 

…

August 2021

“You insist on this every year!” 

“Because it’s fun every year!” 

“And yet you still get pissy when you get beaten by a carnival game.”

Mat glared at him from over his shoulder, not faltering in his steps as he shot his cackling friend a look. “It doesn’t beat me—”

Beau snorted, giving the boy a fond shove as he pushed his way through the crowd to catch up until they were shoulder-to-shoulder again. “Dude, it’s a stupid game that you try every single time. And you fail every time.” 

“It’s rigged,” Mat huffed.

“Yeah, that’s the whole fucking point,” Beau deadpanned. “They are all rigged.”

“But I’ve beaten them all,” Mat whined, sounding young and bratty. “The ring toss is rigged more. It’s made to torture one’s mind—”

“Your mind.”

“—until they are driven insane and haunted by those stupid rings,” he continued to grumble, muttering an apology after he almost walked straight into a lady pushing a stroller.

“All for an arcade ring,” Beau mused, shaking his head. “Dude, you need to let it go.” 

Mat turned to glare at the boy. “No. I have won every single one of these stupid games. I am gonna win this one too.”

Beau opened his mouth. “Mat, dude—”

“And I am gonna get that stupid ring and I will wear it every single day of my—” 

The noise that left his mouth cut him short, something between a scream and squeak of surprise as he found his body hitting someone else instead of the clear path down the pier like he had assumed. He managed to stay on his feet, considering he was a six foot hockey player whose job revolved around being slammed into by other six foot hockey players. 

His victim? Not so much.

“Fuck.” 

It came out like a wheezed, as though the person was winded. Mat quickly spun around, the apologies already leaving his lips as he offered his hand out before he even took a look at the person he accidentally knocked over. And when he did, the apologies died on his tongue as he stared at you, his expression stuck between awe and something else that Beau would spend the better part of the next few years teasing him for.

“Do you even watch where you are going?” 

“Yeah,” Mat replied dumbly, staring at you like he was lost in a daze.

“Clearly not,” you murmured but still took his hand, giving him an odd look when it took longer than a few seconds before he realised and helped you up.

“I’m Mat,” he blurted out before he even let go of your hand. “And I’m sorry.” 

Your lips twitched. “I accept your apology, Mat.” 

“And your name?” He asked, not even trying to be subtle about it (if Beau’s snort was anything to go by). 

Mat feld winded himself when you smiled as you told him your name. 

…

February 2022

“So, let me get this straight.” 

“I am tired of repeating myself.”

“You’re taking her out on Valentine’s Day—”

“Not for Valentine’s Day!”

“Yeah, sorry, my bad. You are taking your friend who you are desperately in love with out on Valentine's Day. How silly of me to take that the wrong way.” 

Mat rolled his eyes, even if Beau couldn’t currently see him. He tucked his free hand into his jacket pocket, the other one curled around his phone as his eyes continued to wander over the pink and red decorations dotted all over the place. It made his nose scrunch up.

“It was the only day we both had free,” Mat insisted, his cheeks tinting pink for a whole different reason other than the cold, nipping weather of winter in New York. 

“No denial about the ‘in love’ part.” 

“Shut up,” he gritted through clenched teeth, as if anyone else could hear Beau except him.

“It’s just a little pathetic—”

“I didn’t ask,” Mat deadpanned, trying to ignore how hot his face now felt. “I don’t even know why I called you.”

“Because you needed a pep talk to finally make a move.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” Mat grumbled, ignoring whatever protests he received on the other side as he quickly pressed the red button before shoving his phone into his pocket with a huff. He was so lost in muttering to himself under his breath that he hadn’t noticed you approaching.

“Woah,” you laughed, hands up in mock defence at the way he jumped out of his skin. “You good?” 

“Yeah, I just—” He waved it off, an easy and genuine smile on his lips as he took in the way you were bundled up, an Islanders scarf around your neck. “Ready to have your ass kicked?” 

Your lips twitched. “Ready to cry over the ring toss again?” 

He did not, in fact, cry over the ring toss but he was undoubtedly grumpy by the time the two of you settled down on one of the benches looking out towards the beach, huffing as he took an aggressive bite from the pretzel that definitely didn’t fit his diet plan.

“C’mon,” you laughed, nudging your shoulder against his. “It’s just a game.” 

“It’s a stupid game,” Mat retorted.

“Beau was right, you take it way too seriously,” you commented, playful and lighthearted with a gleam in your eyes. Like you were so unaware that the comfort you shared with his friends made his chest tighten in the best way possible.

“You have a little—” He cut himself off, gesturing to the side of your lip.

Your brows furrowed, your thumb attempting to swipe the brown sugar away just to miss completely. “Did I get it?” 

“No, I—here, let me,” Mat murmured, reaching over to gently swipe the brown sugar away. But his thumb lingered, his eyes locked on your lips before glancing up at you. He waited for you to pull away but you just stared back.

For a moment, Mat wondered if you were going to suddenly pull away and pretend the small moment never happened.

For a moment, Mat’s stomach dropped at the thought this would be as far as he got with you.

And then you were leaning forward, your lips pressed against his and the pretzels long forgotten.

His body reacted faster than his brain did, kissing you back as the sweet taste of cinnamon and sugar overwhelmed him. The pretzel was left on the bench between you, his hands cupping your face as he sunk into the kiss, as he sunk into your embrace.

And only when you pulled back to smile at him did his brain seem to realise what had just happened. 

And only then did he grin right back at you. 

…

May 2022 

“God, hockey is brutal.”

Mat paused, raising his brows. “Just realised that?”

“Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about hockey after—” You cut yourself off, wincing a little as you stood in his kitchen, just dressed in one of his shirts (ironically, an Islanders one with the number thirteen above your heart) with a mug of coffee in hand. “Ignore me. Watch the eggs don’t burn.” 

Mat snorted. “What has made you realise hockey is so brutal?” 

“Just kinda thinking about it,” you shrugged, your gaze on the rim of your mug rather than his face. It made him frown a little. “Like, I know it’s a part of the sport but, fuck, all it takes is one bad hit and—”

“Woah, hey,” Mat’s frown deepened as he reached for you, the stove turned off, the eggs forgotten and his hand reaching to place the coffee mug on the counter. He took your face in his hands, his thumbs smoothing over the apples of your cheeks. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, but it sounded a bit wet and weak to his ears. He tilted your head up, his lips pressed together when he noticed how glossy your eyes were. “I guess I just never realised how brutal the sport was until I met you. And you guys play through so many injuries and I know your season is over now but the idea of you pushing yourself even more is just—”

“Come back home with me.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Come back home with me for the summer,” Mat repeated, a soft smile on his lips. 

You blinked again, your confusion only growing. “Did you not just hear me—” 

“I did,” Mat interrupted, nodding his head with the look of adoration still written plainly across his face. “And all I could think was, ‘wow, how lucky am I to have this amazing girl care about me so much’ and I just…I am lucky. So lucky. And I wanna show other people how lucky I am. I want to show my family how lucky I am.”

Your face softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mat murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered before leaning in, a soft and lingering kiss left on his lips before you pulled back. “And I’m lucky you care about me too.” 

“I’m really glad I bumped into you that day in Coney Island,” Mat confessed, something warm and comforting bubbling in his stomach at the sight of your smile. 

“Yeah, me too,” you hummed, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “And I love you even if you can’t win the ring toss—”

Mat groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

…

March 2023

“You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Mat blinked, his thoughts torn away from him as he turned to find you settling down onto the bench next to him, two pretzels in your hand. He murmured a small ‘thanks’ as he took one of the pretzels from you, staring at the sugary cinnamon sticks with little appetite. 

“Hide what?” Mat asked. 

“Mat,” you said his name in a way that made his chest tighten, so soft and gentle, like he was some scared animal you were slowly approaching. “Baby, I know you miss him. You don’t have to pretend.” 

His eyes dropped back to the pretzel in his hands. 

Because it was true. He did miss Beau. He missed Beau more than he cared to admit. And it was stupid because he knew this was how hockey worked, he had friends traded and sent away multiple times before. It was a part of the sport. 

But he just didn’t think it would ever hurt this bad, even weeks after the trade had happened. His focus should have been the season and the playoffs approaching. He should have been focused on the team. 

But every time he went on the ice, he couldn’t help but feel like a part of him was missing when he lifted his head and didn’t see Beau there, ready to accept his pass.

“There was this small part of me that just thought—” Mat paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “That we would be on the same team forever, you know? That it would always be me and him. That we would win the Cup together and…yeah.”

“I know,” you whispered, soft and soothing as you placed your head on his shoulder and let him lean his head against yours. “You never know. You two will find your way back to each other.”

His lips twitched into a sad smile. “Maybe.”

“You were always meant to find each other in this life,” you told him, sounding so sincere and genuine over the distant cheers and screams and buzzing noise of the amusement park behind you. “Just because you don’t live minutes away anymore, doesn’t mean that ends. He is always gonna be there for you, just like I am.”

Mat pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you.”

“Always, Mat. Always.” 

…

July 2023

“Home, sweet home!”

Mat winced a little as his voice echoed through the empty apartment, the walls bare and the place a little dusty. But it was yours and it made it perfect, it made the keys in his hand feel heavier and more special than his last set. 

“Fuck, we have so much to unpack,” you commented but you sounded happy. You both did, despite the state of exhaustion the last few days left you, attempting to pack up both of your apartments and moving into your new shared place. 

“That is a later problem,” Mat waved you off, reaching towards you so he could wind his arms around your waist and pull you closer. “We have a mattress and takeout menus, what else do we need?” 

“Preferably some sheets,” you teased, not even attempting to pull yourself out of his hold. You were content exactly where you were. “I’m, like, ninety percent sure you put them in the wrong box.”

“Blame the pretty one,” Mat huffed, cackling when you playfully pinched his hip. “Kidding, baby, you’re obviously the pretty one in the relationship.”

“We can both be pretty,” you rolled your eyes before laying your head on his chest, smiling when you felt him lean his chin on top. “Can’t wait to make this place ours.” 

“It’s gonna be so pretty so it can match us,” Mat murmured, grinning when you laughed in response. 

“It looks so plain right now, it’s freaky,” you commented, half-hearted with no real heaviness to your words. It would take a few days for you both to make it feel homely and you were looking forward to it. 

But Mat was already untangling himself from your hold, grinning as he began tugging you towards the kitchen. “We can put our first proper decoration up!” 

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “What? But the boxes are—” 

You cut yourself off as you watched Mat reach into the pocket of his sweatpants, grinning widely as he pulled out a small magenet and slapped it on the middle of the very bland fridge. He looked at the magnet with great pride before turning to you, his smile only growing.

You let out a laugh at the sight of the Coney Island magnet on the fridge. “Perfect.”

“Our first home,” Mat grinned, pulling you back in so he could smack a kiss on your lips. “The first of many.”

“I’m not moving for at least another few years,” you joked, smiling against his lips. “This whole thing was exhausting.” 

“As long as it’s with you, I don’t really care.”

…

January 2024

“I need your help.” 

“Oh god, what have you done?” 

Mat frowned at his phone for a moment, forgetting about the bundling nerves that had left him on edge for the last week. He was sure you were starting to pick up on it, even if you hadn’t mentioned as much—thankfully. But after a week of waiting, he finally had the perfect opportunity to call his sister whilst you were out of the house. 

“I have done nothing. Yet.” 

His sister sighed. “Mathew—”

“No full names needed,” he murmured, his cheeks burning as he leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling with determination that was quickly dwindling the longer the call went on. “I just…I need your help.”

“With?” 

“A ring.” 

His frown deepened when Liana laughed. “If this is about that arcade game Beau told me about—”

“What? No,” he sighed, his blush only deepening. “I need help picking a ring. A real ring. An engagement ring.”

His sister was silent for a few moments before she spoke. “Holy shit. You’re really gonna do it?” 

Mat couldn’t even bite back his smile. “I want to. This summer, maybe. But I need a ring and I was thinking you could help while we’re up for All Stars and—” 

“Sold. Done. I’m not letting you pick an ugly ring for my future sister-in-law.”

“She might still say no,” Mat reminded her, even if his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. 

“Of course she won’t,” Liana retorted, sounding so confident that Mat almost wanted to believe her wholeheartedly. “Especially if you let me help pick a ring.” 

Mat pressed his lips together. “I really want to find the perfect ring.” 

“We will. She is going to love it, Mat. She is going to say yes.” 

“Good,” he murmured, grinning. “Because she’s it for me. She’s the only person I wanna give a ring to.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Shut up.”

…

October 2024

He couldn’t even remember what started the argument. 

If he was being honest, the tension had been brewing for a while. It had been a combination of things and none of them had made the atmosphere around the apartment much better. Small, silly things that shouldn’t have been that bad but felt like the end of the world as they were thrown at you both, one after the other.

Mat knew it was bad.

He just didn’t think it was this bad.

It felt like the two of you had been at it for hours, and maybe you had. He couldn’t tell anymore, he didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours the two of you had stood on opposite sides of the living room, yelling and screaming and crying. It all felt too much, like it was getting bigger and bigger, just waiting to pop. 

And then it fucking did. 

“I-I can’t do this anymore.” 

And Mat felt like a deflating balloon, the air escaping his lungs as he found himself staring at you, his mouth unable to voice any of the thoughts he wanted to say.

“Maybe,” you let out a bitter laugh, pained and hurt and weak. “Maybe we just aren’t forever, Mat. Maybe you’re not ready to let anything but hockey be your forever.” 

And you were wrong. 

Deep down, Mat knew you were wrong and his brain was screaming for him to tell you just how wrong you were. Because the fight had escalated and spun out of control and he should have grabbed the wheel with both hands to stabilise you both.

But he was hurt and he was petty and he felt his mouth saying the exact opposite of how he felt. 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

The way your whole body deflated and your face fell would haunt his nightmares for nights to come, along with the sound of the apartment door slamming shut as you left and never looked back. 

…

Present – November 2024 

Once upon a time, the biggest challenge Coney Island provided him was the damn ring toss game. It had been like that for years. 

But now, he sat on the bench, the plastic ring between his fingers feeling as heavy as the other ring in his pocket. He didn’t feel victorious, he didn’t feel anything but emptiness. Because neither ring meant anything when he was here alone, when he had failed to give you both.

The ring toss was barely a challenge compared to returning to this damn bench almost every day since he had pulled from the lineup with an injury that just felt like a mockery on top of everything else. 

But he did it. He came back every single day because it hurt and he deserved it. He deserved to sit there and think about just what he lost. Because he had no idea where you were, he hadn’t heard a single word from you—not even Beau would tell him if he had heard from you.

Mat had let pride and something else just as stupid get in the way of his forever.

The least he could do was bear the cold, winter weather on that stupid bench until his fingers were too damn numb to hold the stupid arcade ring. 

The least he could do was spend the rest of his days wondering if there was a universe where things were different, where he still had you, where he was able to see you one more time.

The least he could do was let his own thoughts about losing you forever haunt him. 

The least he could do was hope the universe would give him one more fucking chance to fix everything with you, to at least give you the stupid arcade ring he once promised he would win for you.

The least he could do was apologise for not making you his centrefold like he knew you deserved.

Mat stared down at the phone in his hand, pressing your contact before he could talk himself out of it. He had to try. For you, for him, for the forever he knew you two could have. 

He had to try. 

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

.

[eerna]

i was one of the people who saw the early leaks post and i remember trying not to read too much of it but i had a moment of being like wow this cant be real but also it definitely could be. i remember reading about the damn caitvi sex scene and i thought to myself thats so ass why would they do it in a prison and then i realized the writers probably thought it was some meaningful parallel or something about vi being able to transform being imprisoned with something good

then the act dropped and i saw the damn parallels with cait finding her in the cell and i was like ok yeah. they basically had that as an idea. amanda overton was talking about it in a watch party and said they love their parallels and it was meant to symbolize vi addressing her trauma and im like. i see what they were going for and i get it I GUESS narratively but i really feel like this is such monkeys paw shit like we got this scene at what cost. and like the scene ITSELF was very good and sweet and lovely but like could it not have happened ANYWHERE ELSE?

i feel like the biggest problem with arcane s2 was that the creators rlly wanted to push the bar with animation storytelling. amanda talked about this too and like i feel like it kind of highlights the problem. where bc this show is so amazing graphically the animators wanna highlight that with as much action as possible instead of focusing on smaller scenes and more intimate quiet moments. i watched arcane s1 all at once after it came out and there were def parts that felt a little rushed in certain acts but it was nothing like s2. it just feels like they had all these story beats they wanted to hit but didnt give it the time it deserved and it sucks bc they said they always meant it to be 2 seasons so like why does it feel like this. they wrote them back to back around the same time what happened between s1 and s2. i just feel like the caitvi sex scene is a microcosm of the larger problem. they had these emotional beats and story moments that in isolation are really powerful but its almost like we didnt get a proper A to B transition. its like we skipped several steps for sooo many story beats.

such complex characters with real ass lives causing real ass problems. cait's privilege being an issue, how gratifying that could be to have explored. viktor's experience being explored more in depth. just so much more about zaun. like all of it was there in tiny slivers but it was never given the depth to GROW or properly BREATHE bc five million action scenes and plot points had to be squeezed in.

ultimately i love arcane overall. i think it has broken boundaries and done some amazing things. but its blemishes are really... painful at the same time. and knowing how the writers did such a good job in s1 makes me just like. cmon guys. you had it. YOU HAD IT

anyways sorry for blowing up your ask with so much rambling i just... idk. what are your thoughts on this stuff do you agree with my assessment or do you think the culprit is something else

No prob, welcome to the symposium~ Yeah, I totally get what the writers were going for with Vi. Which is why I am so shocked they thought it was a good idea. Like, okay, she is addressing her trauma in the sex scene... But why should her trauma get addressed by being locked in a jail cell by her sister, who just spent days being wrongfully imprisoned in there by the girl she's about to have sex with, and who then told her she was gonna off herself. If anything, the thing I was feeling was pain because it happened again, a Zaunite was thrown in jail by the Enforcers after she helped and saved them without any rights, and she was reminded she was less than them and her life is worth nothing... Mmmmm, the perfect memory to overwrite prison abuse!

I too felt s1 had some strange pacing choices, Vi and Jayce teamup comes to mind first, and that was, surprise surprise, a fight scene. But those were pretty minor, and still left time for other scenes to develop properly. It only becomes a real problem when it happens scene after scene, character after character, until no one is acting in character and you constantly feel like you have skipped a scene or two. I too remmeber them saying they wrote the seasons back to back, but. Dare I say it. I think s2 was so majorly rewritten by the time it went to recording that only the bare bones remained. In fact, that might be why we feel this way - maybe they DID have a frame they wanted to follow, but the rewrites warped and twisted the characters so intensely they ended up making no sense in the context of that frame. That's right, I'm talking about the way they decided to more closely follow and collaborate with LoL in s2. Jayce's final speech to Viktor only makes sense for game Viktor, and goes completely against s1 Viktor. Vi deciding police brutality doesn't really matter all that much makes sense for game Vi, and foes completely against s1 Vi. Jinx giving up on ever being loved or accepted by others makes sense for game Jinx, and goes completely against s1 Jinx.

So yeah my thesis is: Arcane knows it looks good, and sometimes it prevents it from being well written. It also decided to throw in its lot with LoL in s2, and no amount of good intentions from the writers could have saved it from crashing and burning.

[waytootiredstudent]

It's very weird. I am not American. None of my co-workers are. This is just a random office in Germany. And yet there is a notable air of anger and despair from everyone about the election results. One of my co-workers has a red coat and just bitterly said that it's a bad day to wear that colour. She normally really likes the colour and the coat. Theres a notable lack of laughter and smiles and a lot of grim faces in the break rooms. Like yeah everybody does their job. But they're all a little exhausted.

I don't have a point. It's just weird to see how present this is in everybodies minds. How many people that have nothing to do with it care about it. It is mostly met with disbelief. A sense of "I can't understand it. It doesn't make any sense. Why?"

[chirpchirplol]

hi! anonymous asker here, I made an account to post about why I initially thought I was Lion. This is going to start off like me trying to argue it's wrong but that's not what it is. It's also long af, sorry for that, I wrote it out for myself to process it then went back and realized there was a literal question it was in response to. longafness after link, tl;dr: I value and rely on my gut feelings heavily, can't make myself ignore them, but I want them to be predictable and it's uncomfortable when they get out of line

So I felt confident about Lion, and with Badger or Snake, it was "I wouldn't like it but I could see it." Like with Snake, I love me some hedonism and struggle with selfishness - had assumed both those characters were huge Snakes lol - but find it as a whole to be a very "fuck you, I got mine" mentality. Sucks for those strangers in need with no one to come through for them! Like I have STRONG feelings about this, I don't understand how people don't find it horrifying. I actually have a weird opposite thing where I can get FURIOUS on behalf of strangers being mistreated, even hypothetical or fictional ones, in a way I don't for people I know well or even myself. Which is why I thought Badger was possible and maybe I just was resistant due to being burned or because I thought it was boring, but the unpersoning group thing creeps me out. "All people matter… except the ones that don't." It's so close to being really beautiful!

With Bird it was more, "who even does this?" Like with the Bird answer on the "lack of objective truth" question, "it's OK, I thought about it and reality is close enough to the model in my head", that is literally incomprehensible to me as a way a person would think. (My answer was "actually there is objective truth." That was my answer before I even got through the question.)

The main reason why I thought Bird was impossible is the "choosing to care about something" part. I can't do that. Caring about things is not something I can turn on or off at will, even if I want to. At least not important things as opposed to say hobbies, but even then I can't just go "ok self, you're gonna like football now because I said so" and then actually do. It's an organic process, I can kick it off but ultimately I either care or don't care, and if I don't then the farthest I'm gonna get is pretending, or lying to myself while knowing it's a lie. Definitely can't talk myself into caring about a job, god knows I've tried lol. My likes and dislikes are so fundamental to who I am as a person, so sacred even, that the idea that they are deliberately malleable for other people is just, whaaaaa?

Where this really kicks in is friends and relationships, I cannot deliberately make myself like someone I dislike or dislike someone I like, people generally don't grow more attractive to me over time. and it'd make me sad, like relationship-foundation-shakingly sad, if I found out my friends/partner felt that way with me. like they had to try to like me rather than just like me.

I'm not really a logical person either. I start with the conclusion, which is generally based on feelings, and then hope I can justify it in case I ever have to talk about it. (because arguing is stressful enough when I do have a defensible stance let alone when I can't explain it) I have this irrational but unshakeable assumption that my feelings and thoughts should just agree completely. When they don't, that feels bad, but my gut has veto power. To fully talk myself into or out of opinions I have to actually feel good about them, they have to not feel viscerally wrong, or else things get into an uncomfortable self-judging place where I know I should believe something but don't actually, truly, deep down, believe it. Or where none of the stances feel right, that's even more "fun".

A good example of that is actually the "past self is a different person" thing. My past self is still me, the things I did or thought in the past do not disappear just because I've changed nor do their permanent effects on me. I absolutely feel guilty about things I used to believe, and sure some of that is just the cringe of people knowing about it, but even if no one else knew I'd know and that's enough. And yet… I also theoretically believe in rehabilitation and think it's wrong not to, but apparently I actually don't, because that sure isn't something a person who believes in rehabilitation would say! I'm being flippant but this legitimately bothers me, especially because the idea of not believing in rehabilitation feels even more bad.

What convinced me ultimately: I'm not a Trump supporter, obviously. I would like to think it is absolutely impossible for me to become a Trump supporter. But that's what they all say, people become the things they would never EVER become all the time. Which led me to this question: Would it be worse to deliberately choose to do something wrong, or to slowly stop believing it's wrong without realizing? Or does that distinction even matter? Feel free to substitute something less extreme, like working for an evil company, bullying, cheating, selling out, betraying a friend, whatever line you would never cross.

And my answer is actually that the latter is wayyy more disturbing. I'm really big on owning and naming your beliefs and desires. It's a great way to get your conscience to kick in, to actually say it out loud then see how good or bad that felt. Same principle as how, if someone makes a racist joke, you act confused and ask them to explain it to you.

So the former would be gross, like fuck any person who would do it; but at least I could be conscious of the fact that I am choosing to do an evil thing for the sake of, I don't know, stonks. I would be engaged in the process, my conscience would be involved despite being ignored, and I would hope I would feel disgusted with myself forever. (Even considering the possibility is kind of disgusting.) But slowly having your beliefs erode over time into something bad… how do you stop that? How do you do ANYTHING about that? Shit what if it's happening right now? Even if the shift was in the opposite direction and I slowly became a better person without trying… I guess that's good? Can't argue with it being a net positive? But it feels unearned and unreliable, if you can sleepwalk forward you can sleepwalk back.

So that's conscious vs. unconscious I guess. Also I wrote and revised a ton of words to answer the question so there's that too.

bird primary + burnt snake secondary

 tl;dr: Fairly sure I'm Lion primary (maybe burned Badger since I sort of envy the idea of close communities, or hedonistic Snake, not sure where that line is)

(the way that divide works out is that basically, Burnt Badgers look like Snakes. They have the Snake's small community, but wish they could cast their net wider. Hedonistic Snakes tend to be more solo, and much more focused on /stuff/. Also, both options make pretty good short-term coping mechanisms.)

but unsure whether my secondary is Bird, Snake/burned Snake, or burned Lion.

I love researching and reverse-engineering and my immediate response to situations is to Google advice, but reactively, not proactively. I am allergic to planning, and prepwork feels stifling and unnatural.

Ooooh, have we got a single-player Environment Snake? (I also think of these as MacGyver Snakes.) Basically just pulling at the things around you in order to solve the problem at hand.

I studied math in college then did a coding bootcamp, and I always felt adrift because both only taught memorizing solutions to individual problems/proofs, not how to solve unfamiliar ones -- i.e., really learning. 

However, I neither consider myself flexible nor want to be, and singleplayer Snake is wayyyyyyyyyyyy more comfortable than stuff involving other people. (Complicating factor: not neurotypical.)

I think I can say, pretty confidently, that this system works just fine if you're not neurotypical. :) There's no reason you have to use the multi-player version if you don't want. The most dramatic single/multi player divide is probably Bookkeeper Badger vs Courtier Badger, and there are lots of people who prefer being just one or the other.

I do the "faces" thing reflexively, in the moment, but it doesn't feel like "shifting" or "becoming" anything: just me, lying.

That's Snake. "Becoming" is more of a word that a Courtier Badger would use, they kinda do have to believe it, or it doesn't work. Snake secondaries are a lot more aware of what they're doing, in the moment.

It's interesting that you are just straight-up using the word lie though. In my experience, Snakes are more likely to conceptualize that particular problem-solving strategy as "say it in a way they'll listen to," or something like that. You might just be super direct (and/or like hanging out in Neutral) buuuut... the negativity of "lie" can sometimes point to a Burnt secondary. No sign of that yet, but I'll keep an eye out for it.

I don't have a moral problem with lying; it's often even right since a) telling the truth often hurts people, and b) people do prefer it: most people want to hear what they want to hear, and if that happens to be the truth that's great.

Hmmm. This is sounding like primary stuff. And it's quite reasoned out, which makes me interested in hearing why you went for Lion primary instead of Bird.

But deep down, I guess I resent it. I wish that when I say what I mean it would convince people rather than create problems. I try to ration that to only things that REALLY matter to me, but tbh many things do. I hate arguing.

What I'm hearing here is the Bird primary fantasy of "If I was only able to explain it exactly right, in precisely the right words, then everyone would agree with me." And as you say earlier, it doesn't actually work like that. It sounds like you're feeling a bit cynical in regards to other people a the moment, and I can't exactly blame you.

I would love to be an inspirational secondary but I am bad at inspiring people.

There is definitely some burnt secondary talk going on here.

Family: I'm not close to my father -- he’s a terrible person, serial cheater, racist, etc. I'm closer to my mother, and don't think she's a bad person, but both parents were hypercritical and have horrible tempers, so my childhood felt horrible to live through since I was always getting yelled at or having corporal punishment used for doing something wrong.

Definitely seeing where the burned secondary energy is coming from, if so many of your formative experiences involved being told that the way you were doing things was wrong. I also see why you might have at least a fascination with the confident, firey, speak-your-truth-and-damn-the-consequences Lion secondary.

(On paper this could be called abusive, and anyone else being subjected to this makes me furious, but I'm not fully comfortable with the label for my situation, even though I know that's inconsistent.) 

I understand, and I appreciate that. I also appreciate your carefully articulated position, and it's slanting me in the direction of Bird primary. Even though this is obviously a topic you are very emotional about, all those emotions are arranged within the framework of thought. You're aware of and okay the fact that you feel all kinds of different ways about what happened.

Any secondary model came from my mom, but I don't know about primary. She always says my sister and I are "the most important things in her life." (One of the reasons I don’t want kids is that I don’t think I could ever believe or promise them that.) She ostensibly also hates my father and their divorce was vicious, but she kept working for him until he retired, goes on trips with him to see my sister or me, and pressured me for years to un-estrange him because “after all, he’s family” until I gave in and now pretend to have a relationship just enough to placate them. I don't have any ethical problems doing this, it's just irritating.

That is very, very unusual family dynamic. Have to get my head around that. Your mom may have some very intense Badger going on, especially with the the whole "after all, he's family" thing. That could fit go with a nasty divorce, especially if she thought his presence was a threat to you and your sister. On the other hand, she might just be able to compartmentalize to an insane degree, which would probably point to Bird secondary.

I don't understand this aspect of my mom; I observe it happening, but I don't understand it. It feels kind of sad, in an existential way. 

Honestly, I agree.

(Another way my dad sucks is that he played favorites with my sister and I, me being the favorite.

Being the Golden Child sucks just as much as being the Problem Child.

The shitty resulting dynamic is I only "care about" his approval to avoid him creating drama that ripples to everyone around him -- he's gotten better but he has literally started shit when I didn't end emails with "love" -- but my sister actually cares about his approval, and it hurts her.)

Secondary-wise, my mom would always harp on me to "pay attention to the people and things around you," and whenever I tell her about solving problems in Snakeish ways she's like "way to go, [me]!" But she also is meticulously planned and scheduled and organized, and hates surprises and not knowing exactly what will happen. She's the kind of person who gets frustrated in April when I haven’t told her my Thanksgiving itinerary, which, like... I don't want to think that far ahead.

She could be either Prep-work secondary, Bird or Badger. If she's a Bird, "pay attention to the people and things around you," points to a a Rapid-Fire Bird (which can look *very* Snakey.) Or it could be a way of describing Courtier Badger. Being that scheduled is more often a Bird thing... but I could also imagine a Badger manifesting like that, especially if she is so concerned with specifically planning holidays.

Low-stakes/high-stakes problem that felt good: This is a high-stakes problem containing a low-stakes problem. I'm rolling them together because they illustrate both aspects of my problem solving.

Higher stakes: That coding bootcamp required being on Zoom 8 hours every day. But I had 3 roommates (part of why I did it was to not have 3 roommates), and they didn't want me there that much. I can't go to coffee shops because either they're loud, or I will make them loud by talking for 8 hours, thus becoming the problem. Coworking spaces are expensive af. I even consider renting a storage unit but I don't think they have power and wifi. The idea I settle on is sneaking onto a nearby college campus: preferably the CS building, to blend in. I scour the college subreddit for posts about what buildings let students in without ID, then scout them out (this is March, the thing doesn't start until May, I'm just high on must-solve-now energy). After ~15 minutes (lol) of walking through campus I decide I've had enough, seems doable. The day of, I leave early in case I have to give up and go home, but that turned out to be completely pointless because tailgating in is shockingly easy. Like it's scary how easy it is. One day a security officer stopped me but even he eventually let me in after I acted increasingly frazzled and panicked -- not ENTIRELY an act but I definitely was playing it up.

I like this story. And I feel good about saying that it is QUITE snakey: what do I have immediately around me, and how can I use it to get what I want in this moment? Even little details like - you're not bothering to come up with a cover story or borrow/forge someone's ID. If you're caught you'll talk your way out of it. You did a little research, then scoped the place out, then were good to go.

Lower stakes: I usually did classes from an empty auditorium (students weren't supposed to be there but no one checked, and also I'm not a student right?). The whiteboard's eraser stand was a few inches away from the wall, and one day I drop my phone in the gap. Shit. The gap's way too high to reach down. I can't ask anyone for help because I'm already 2 layers deep of being somewhere I'm not supposed to be. The stand screws to the wall, but I don't have a screwdriver because who just carries a screwdriver around? (For whatever reason, going to a hardware store didn't occur to me.) I stare at the thing until I realize: I am literally in the ENGINEERING building. I search various offices, ask people for a screwdriver, but no luck. Then I see a board listing the departments. One floor has a "makerspace," and somehow, its door is wide open (the student lounge is locked down but the room with deadly power tools isn't, ???) I grab 5 sizes of screwdriver, then also grab duct tape and a ruler to fish my phone out in case the screwdrivers don't work, which turned out to be a good idea because they didn't

Sounds to me to me like you just MacGyvered a solution :D

One thing I am picking up on is your subtle critique of the existing rules/systems. Getting in via tailgateing is easier than it should be, talking your way past the guard was too easy. The door with the powertools really should be locked, etc. It's making me (again) think Bird primary for you. You've very tuned into the way things run, and how well designed (or not) that is. There's also just a little bit of Birdy rules-lawyer in "Students aren't allowed in this room, but I'm not a student (because I snuck in.)"

Hard decision-making process…. I don’t know. I don’t experience many decisions as hard. I often know what I want to do right away; the difficult part is doing it.

In the language of this system, that's a Burnt secondary.

Or I know what I should do, am obligated to do, have no choice but to do, etc., though sometimes it feels miserable or wrong, like resignation.

Unfortunately that is what it feels like to have a Burnt primary - you just use whatever problem-solving strategy you can at random, since they all feel like a chore and it doesn't really matter.

I can feel proud of making certain "right" choices in an abstract self-congratulatory way, but I never like it or really feel good about it. I either act on something immediately or put it off until the decision makes itself, a drop-dead deadline approaches, I get bored/impulsive enough to do it on the spot, or I suddenly swerve my life toward something I like better.

You're definitely an Improvisational secondary. Which is really fine, even though I know it doesn't feel that way all the time when you come from a family of intense Prep-work people. Just keep an eye on that 'wait until the deadline' impulse. It's very, very common for neurodivergent people to use that last-minute stress adrenaline to kind of hack their brain, and it's not sustainable.

I'd wanted to change careers for years but the actual decision to do the bootcamp was an impulse based on ~3 hours' research the day I encountered it.

That can absolutely work though. You *are* working on the problem and mulling it over in your head long term, even if you are (in the words of another snake secondary) "waiting for the opportune moment."

This is all healthy and well-adjusted, and it definitely has never caused any predictable problems! (Did get a job though.)

Hey, if it's stupid and it works, it's not stupid.

My fantasy: To be successful and well-known in my field; to create the kind of art I want to create and have it be respected/influential. To live the life I want, with the aesthetic I want, and the opportunities from others and follow-through from me to achieve that. The details vary based on the field but that's the general template. 

I'd say that's a very human fantasy, without too many details that slant me one way or the other, in terms of this system. There's definitely a focus on the community around you and how you relate to it/integrate into it. And that makes me think Bird (the external primary) is more likely than Lion (the internal primary.)

Characters: I relate to characters who are flawed in the same ways I am -- they feel like cautionary tales -- or sometimes via empathizing in a way the story doesn’t (Carlotta from Phantom got done DIRTY).

It's interesting that you respond to characters who the narrative framing doesn't support, because the narrative framing doesn't support them. I guess that does fit with your interest in constructed systems, and if they're useful/functional or not. Which points to Bird.

On that big pop culture character test I always get Hannah from Girls and Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Galactica: harsh, but not wrong.

(I always get Inara from Firefly and Céline from Before Sunrise.)

It's been a second since I've seen Girls or Battlestar Galactica, but I do think that both of those characters are Bird Snakes, which is honestly impressive since Bird Snakes are easily the least common fictional archetype.

Baltar is clever, adaptive, reactive, he pulls from around him. He also bluffs and will *act* like he's an expert when he really isn't. A lot of his internal conflict revolves around extremely Bird primary rationalization - is this situation really his fault? and if it is, what is he morally/rationally supposed to do about it (if anything?) "Voice of *a* generation" Hannah also has this way of getting caught in her own feedback loops when trying to figure herself out. One of my favorite moments is the bit where she loses her purse on the way back from the wedding, and then rides the train all the way to Coney Island, sits on the beach and eats the slice of wedding cake while watching the sun rise. I think that's beautiful, and a very Snake secondary response.

I also gravitate toward a specific archetype: Blanche from A Streetcar Named Desire, Madame Bovary, Violetta from La Traviata. People who desire an impossible thing deeply and unshakably, temporarily achieve it, and are taken down dramatically.

Now that, I'm thinking is a story structure that you like. And/or you're drawn to these tragic great ladies, living most of the way in a fantasy world. It's a good, cathartic archetype.

What makes me feel powerful: I don’t really resonate with that framing. The closest is that feeling like I have no options is the same for me as feeling powerless.

Okay, "not feeling powerless," I'll take it. And we're back to that Burnt secondary again. I'm hoping you'll leave your Snake a little more room to breathe and play, because it seems like you're a pretty capable person. You manage to do the things you want to get done, and you have an excellent awareness of what are good and bad situations, both for you and just in general.

Thank you to anonymous for such an excellent submission. If you'd like a Sorting of your very own, commissions are open on my ko-fi. :D

If you'd like to read more about the system I'm using, my explanation is right here.

[notjanine]

me a week ago: i love my job!!

me now, after having a mid-year review that amounted to you’re doing an excellent job and you bring such a valuable perspective to our practice but i don’t have the ability to give you a raise right now but don’t worry bc i just hired a new CFO to try to figure out money so we can maybe give you a raise later this year: *breaks into a cold sweat as i crack open indeed dot com*

[carcarrot]

i guess im being offered the job lol

[orcelito]

I do find it so funny that I will graduate college days away from my birthday. Like my birthday is literally in between the end of the semester ("graduation") and commencement

It really will be like a joint graduation & birthday party for me lmao

[thediktatortot]

.

[north-wilkesboro-moonshine-cave]

not to be a colossal fucking cowabummer about everything but it really does suck that like. my really chill and like. supposedly more realistic type of career goal feels about as unattainable as like a kid saying he wants to be a singer or something

[autism-disco]

fuck man my life would be much much easier right now if there was not an inspector calling, yet we stay jesting (AAAAAAAAAAA)

[savage-rhi]

I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.

[izzy-b-hands]

Cancelled the in person interview for today after discussing phone interview with Mum and Housemate last night (and the numerous red flags and cost of the lyft there and back for a job that ultimately the place wouldn't be able to convince me to take if offered, bc the general consensus was 'this is literally likely to be as bad as the current job BUT with the added cost of lyfts back and forth that they wouldn't be paying enough to offset, why on earth would you (me) take this job lmaooooo')

Which works out good bc the ongoing Mum trauma stuff is hitting hard as soon as I've woken and maybe I can get the Big Cry out today. Or write down any of the memories that have been playing on repeat in my mind

(with all this said, yes, I still asked and do legitimately care abt my mum's opinion and experience with jobs despite this; yes it feels weird; no I don't know how healthy that is or not lmao but I'm gonna lean towards Not Healthy bc im discovering that the work my previous doc did certainly uncovered this codependency and trauma which absolutely was a great help but like...we didn't actually really untangle any of it so I could try and untangle myself from my mum, even from 1600+ miles from one another. So. probably not healthy.)

[faggotisaacfloofs]

the person who helped today when I fell out of my wheelchair actually did a really great job, so I want to share in case other people wonder what to do. [Note: this is not universal, this is merely a suggestion from one person, every wheelchair user's needs are different! I am a person who uses a manual chair usually pushed by someone else who is also disabled.]

Scenario: you see someone in a wheelchair fall out of their chair, and you have the ability to help.

1. Approach and ask "are you okay?"*

2. Next question if they say no, are vague, or open to continuing conversation** is, "is there anything I can do to help?" Or "what can I do?"

If they say no to help, then that's the end, just leave and go do whatever you were doing!

If they ask for help or say they are mildly injured, ask "what would you like me to do?" And wait for an answer before doing anything! If they seem dazed or confused, they might have hit their head or had another medical event*, or they might just be like that due to regular disability. Be patient.

Do not touch the person unless they say to, or they are like, unconcious in the middle of the road, ya know?? Wheelchair users usually have conditions that mean being handled improperly can severely injure us, you could cause much more damage than the fall.

Some things they might need you to do:

Bring their wheelchair closer (mine went about 5 feet away after it dumped me)

engage the brakes of the wheelchair

hold wheelchair steady if it's an unsteady surface (mud, hill, ramp, wet, etc)

offer an arm for them to hold onto to get up (them grabbing you, not you grabbing them) or move another solid item closer for them to use (i.e. a chair) [only do this if you physically have the ability to!]

If the terrain is rough (i.e. a parking lot), they *might* ask you to push their chair to a more stable area once they are back in their chair

nothing

Something else

Do what they ask, NOT what you think would be helpful. If for some reason you have to do something (i.e. you can't stop oncoming traffic and need to get them out) ASAP, tell them what you plan to do

Keep in mind they might also be D/deaf, have a communication disability, be stunned after the fall, have a head injury, not trust other people, etc. Be patient and treat them as a person with autonomy and agency! They might need to just sit on the ground for a few minutes to recover before trying to get back in their chair. They might want everyone to leave them alone. They might ask you to call someone specific. Their chair might have broken and that can be extremely distressing. All of this is like if your legs spontaneously stop working when you're out and about!

A lot of wheelchair users (NOT ALL) have ways to get into their chair on their own once the chair is close enough and brakes engaged (but it's hard from the ground!). Here's what brakes look like on a lot of manual wheelchairs, in case they ask you to lock the brakes. They're levers on each side and pushing the lever pushes a bar against the wheel to hold it still.

ID: A manual wheelchair with the brake levels circled in red and labeled "user brake levers"

*There is also the possibility of course that a person fell out of their chair due to a seizure or other medical event, so that is why it is important to ask if they are okay. If you saw them hit their head, tell them so. If they had a medical event, follow protocol for that, I'm not gonna get into it here (thought I could).

**sometimes a person will be clear after the first question i.e. "I'm all good thanks" clearly means they do not need you to ask another question, you can just leave them alone. Keep walking and don't stare. A lot of the time people will be a bit banged up but be totally fine and able to manage on their own.

TLDR: Ask the wheelchair user if they're okay, then what they need, and then do exactly that, including leaving them alone. Thanks!

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[cringe-time]

My main identity is “artist” but trying to become a “professional artist” killed my love for art. I literally straight up don’t like drawing anymore. I used to love practicing anatomy and lighting and spending hours sculpting out a face but now that it’s work I can’t bring myself to spend any time on anything anymore. So what the fuck do I do now