you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
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"Phantom, you don't understand-" Superman tried, confused and desperate to stop this very powerful ghost from potentially attacking him. He may have been a bit preoccupied, but he could just drop Superboy and do so.
"No, you're the one who doesn't understand!" Phantom snapped back, green eyes glowing dangerously while he gently patted Superboy on the back. A comfort to the weapon, Superman supposed.
"He was created to be a weapon! His creators trained him to take over my life and destroy me!" Superman incredulously tried to explain why exactly he felt nothing for the clone of himself. Well, mostly himself. Turns out cloning wasn't exact to metas or aliens just yet, though the cloning of other humans sure was nearing perfection at an alarming rate, if not yet perfect already. And this "ghost" child was acting like he was just an infant, or his own child he abandoned!
"And? Does he want to do that? Did he have any say when they were brainwashing him? Did you even try to see how he was after he found out his whole incredibly short life was a lie?" Phantom retaliated, putting himself between Superman and Superboy. "Do you even know his name?"
That final question took Superman off guard for a moment. "Of course I do! Superboy needed to tell us something before we let the team use him."
The room suddenly felt colder than the Arctic, and the formerly bright lights in the area shattered, raining glass onto the 3 standing in the area. Now the only light in the room came from Phantom's glowing toxic eyes. "Conner needed to tell you something before you let the team USE him?" Superman didn't have a clue how to fight off a ghost- the one time he had been allowed to fight one, he'd gotten possessed (Overshadowed Phantom had said) and had been defeated by Phantom knocking him out. If this was headed to a fight, he wasn't sure if he could win it. "Phantom, calm do-"
"Clones scare you that badly huh? Well. I understand perfectly that cloning without you consent is uncomfortable- Don't say shit because I Do know. But it literally wasn't a clone's fault they were created! Conner- By the way, he chose the name Conner- is just a few short months old and you were the only one there who could've helped him transition to a semi normal life before I got here."
"You weren't ever cloned Phantom, y-" "Real funny you say that when you've literally met my clone."
Superman went rigid. Phantom had a clone, and with his powers that was highly dangerous! "What do you mean I've met it!?"
"Clones aren't things!" Phantom snapped, stepping closer just as Superman had to take a step back. This conversation was a huge concern! He was going to have to convince the League to do something about Phantom's clone. There's no way they could let him just roam free! "Since I can tell I won't be the one to get that through your fucking skull, and it's clear you don't actually want custody of Conner, I'M taking him! Royal decree from the King of the Infinite Realms, you gave up all rights to your child and now I have a new sibling. Hope you don't fuck up again Supes, because ghosts will take that very seriously."
Phantom and Superboy stood there for maybe a moment, probably waiting to see if he'd rebuke but... if Superman couldn't fight Phantom, then wasn't it way safer for Superboy to be with Phantom instead? He wouldn't have to deal with the potentials of Superboy giving in to his programming and attacking the Team if Phantom kept him by other ghosts!
So, Superman supposed that the ghost realm was the safest place to put Superboy.
Phantom left Superman to stand alone in the silent and dark room. Superman sighed and resolved to call a Team Meeting, one to say Phantom took Superboy, and one to create plans to track down and contain Phantom's clone.
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Oh gosh they’re gonna bully me aren’t they
Left to Right:
Sheik, 6’1”, 18 y/o; Bestir (Ganondorf), 5’3”, 13 y/o; Shadow Link, 8’1” (short for a shadow) ??? y/o
Valor, 6’3” 51 y/o (mid-teen); Remedy, 5’4”, 17 y/o; Lore, 5’5”, 18 y/o; Merry, 7’1”, 15 y/o; Ardor, 5’11”, 18 y/o; Caprice, 4’-, 346 y/o
Shad, 6’4”, 34 y/o; Malon, 7’5”, 41 y/o; Paya, 5’6” 41 y/o
Guys there are so many more you don’t understand
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So I've been thinking, Sonic and Tails 'fight or flight' instincts switch as they get older.
Let me elaborate.
So growing up Sonic was pure fight instinct when he was younger. Just head first into any fight and he's not backing down for nothing, he's gonna find a way to win that fight no matter what.
But as he gets older he's got Tails to look after and all their other friends that follow him into danger. So now he's more willing to take an L, pull back, regroup and think of a plan in, relative, safety. So he's still not backing down from the over all fight but he develops a flight instinct and does run away when things get too bad in that moment. (basically 'lose the battle when the war' mindset is something he develops over the years aka flight)
Tails meanwhile is the complete opposite. Tails grew up on his own only learning how to run away and hide from those who wanted to hurt him. Then he met Sonic.
Sonic not only helped protect Tails and had his back, but Tails grew up watching Sonic only have a fight instict. And little kids love to imitate anyone older than them and we've seen Tails do this before.
So Tails is just pure fight instict as he gets older, which has Sonic having some regrets™ on how he raised Tails.
Essentially what I'm saying with this whole post is as they get older Sonic is the one that has to hold back Tails from fights.
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The Mario movie was cute, best scenes are the ones with the bros just being. Bros.
Peppino is their cousin. That's it, that's the funny.
And per tradition? I guess? Some more (unfortunately Mario-less) doodles under the cut.
... Yeah. Twinsomnia again. These damn sibs are still on my brain. They're here to - Oh? Oh, Peppino's not a kid? They had the wrong address? Oh well. Might as well help him get through the tower!
Something-something functioning as a single character, something-something throwing each other around, something-something basically Gus and Brick.
Some more self-indulgent crossover'ish nonsense...
Same mirror, same man, different time, different reflections. Shoutout to @/rascal-rose for the idea of young Peppino having curly hair!! I cherish him.
And some wholesome stuff to top it off. (I feel like my handwriting is especially bad on the last one, so just in case, it goes "Buongiorno, ranocchio. Do you want the coffee?".)
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