#But She's Worried about Being a Burden

[aheckinmess]

Atlas [Toshinori] (Angst)

(One-shot 20/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Toshinori Yagi, All Might, Smol Might, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Protective Toshinori, Protective All Might, All Might-centric, Young Toshinori Yagi, Toshinori Has to Shoulder a Lot of Weight, But Not Just Because He's a Hero, OC Shoulders a Lot of Weight Too, But She's Worried about Being a Burden, A Lot of Angst in This One, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, We Weren't Made to Be Atlas, Don't Carry the Weight of the World on Your Shoulders, It's Okay to Ask for Help, OC is Sad, OC is Tired, I Mean Aren't We All?

Word Count: 2,052 words

Summary: After a long day hanging out with a friend, Ichijiku gets frustrated because she feels like she's not contributing anything but also like she's contributing too much at the same time. Toshinori comforts her because he knows exactly how she feels.

Ichijiku (Tigress)

“It just feels like she’s always watching over my shoulder, waiting for me to mess up.”

“I felt that way when I left home. I thought I saw all of my so-called friends around me, too, telling me what a screw up I am.” Hanoku says. 

“I don’t see Grandma everywhere, I’m just in a constant state of fight-or-flight. It makes me second-guess myself. I get hypervigilant and anxious.” I elucidate, trying to keep the focus on the point I’m trying to make.

Irritation coils in my limbs as I try not to be mean. I get that you’re trying to relate, but you always try to remind me your life was worse than mine. Why can’t I say anything without feeling overshadowed when I just needed a safe place to feel…? I take a few deep breaths, trying to remind myself that my friend isn’t at fault. My weary psyche needs a safe place to land, but the only place it's ever had is my own arms.

“Well, what have you tried so far to help with the anxiety?” She asks. It’s a simple enough question, but in my tired anxiety, all I hear is, Clearly, you’re not doing enough.

“Soft music in my earbuds so I don’t have to hear the sounds all around me. It helps me sleep.” I explain, fidgeting with the fabric of my shirt, unable to look at her.

“So, that method helps, but you still aren’t sleeping well? What if you played around with the lighting instead? Then, you’d be fine!” Hanoku suggests. You’re not doing enough to prevent it. You haven’t considered all of your options. God, it’s so annoying listening to you be so stupid.

“Well, I’m doing better than last week. Without the earbuds I barely slept at all.”

“Well, that’s good. Oh!” She dismisses the tired look on my face as I look up at her and surges forward. “Maybe you could try aromatherapy!” She looks at me with a proud smile. “You can train your body to know you are safe and it’s time to sleep!” It’s obvious that this had a simple solution all along, dumbass.

In my insecurities, I force a smile even as I internally crumble. I don’t have much energy left in my reserves after the past few weeks. Between anxiety and fighting villains, all I want is a place to share my woes without being out-traumatized. 

With a solution shoved into my lap, I can only assume I’ve overstayed my welcome on the subject of anxiety. I just want someone to listen to me. But…they have their own problems to deal with. Adding mine must be an extra burden. Guilt makes me straighten up and look ahead, avoiding eye contact as I give her a nod.

“Yeah, I use my pillow mist. It helps since it smells like Toshinori.” I admit, kicking a rock out of the way as we walk.

“Ah, okay. What if I sent you scary stories before bed?” She giggles. “Maybe then your anxiety would have a reason to stay and then go away on its own?”

My brows furrow as I immediately reject that idea. But I shove it away with a laugh and a shrug; I don’t want to bother her anymore than I already have. I turn to her with a smile and nudge her with a wink.

“If your goal is to keep me awake to talk to you about them, then sure. But those are likely to fuel my anxiety more.”

“Ugh! Fine.” She groans, further solidifying that I’m just an irritation. She looks across the street at a couple playing with their kid. “On a more serious note, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No.”

. . . . .

“You bastard! How dare you cheat on me with that whore!” The sound of breaking glass on the TV echoes through the living room as I step through the door, feeling defeated and exhausted despite only walking once around the park with Hanoku. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me? Can you feel the way you break my heart, you cheap piece of ass?!”

“Ichan?” Toshinori calls, his eyes glued to the television set. “Did you enjoy your walk?”

“Yeah, it…was fine.” I give him a believable smile. He’s busy watching his show. I’ve already bothered one person today, anyway. I shuffle my shoes onto the carpet and hang my jacket on the coat rack. “I’m gonna lay down a bit.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” 

Everything is not fine. I pad down to our room and curl up under the blankets, inhaling and exhaling the scent of my husband to ground myself. Though I shouldn’t check my phone when I know I’m going to be disappointed even further, I can’t stop myself from scrolling through all of my conversations hopefully.

A few writing friends promised to read my story yesterday since I’ve finally gotten a solid outline written out, but I’m not surprised to see nothing has been touched. Don’t go down that hole. There’s no reason to be upset. I scroll through Hana’s posts in the same collection just to be sure it’s not me. Both Sayuri and Hanoku left comments within the last two hours. A painful feeling bubbles in my gut, so I should close my phone. 

But I don’t.

I enter the rabbit hole of counting just how many conversations I can stop just by existing. Six conversations in my messages alone had steady responses until I said something. They just got busy. It’s not just you. I keep telling myself.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt so much if it wasn’t so consistent.

When tears make seeing my screen difficult, I finally turn off my phone. The blanket wraps around me until the only opening is around my nose for breathing. Ungrateful brat. I’m not trying to be ungrateful. I want my friends to like me. They only talk to me when I’m alone with them, but in the middle of our friend group, I’m not as important as other people. I get talked over and dismissed. My problems aren’t as big, so they don’t matter. And I know they have lives, but…I don’t want to be the center of their world, I just want to be a part of their constellation.

Tiger roars in the back of my mind, fighting to try and be heard, but I don’t want to hear her for the time being. I just want to feel my emotions and be swallowed by them for a little while, seeing as I so frequently shove them deep, deep into the abyss.

“Ichan,” Toshinori’s soft tones caress my ear as his weight shifts the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired.” I lie, too scared to bother him. He’s the Symbol of Peace. He’s already got enough on his shoulders. I can’t add anymore weight.

“Are you saying that because you think you’re going to bother me, or are you really just tired?” He hums, and when I hesitate for a second too long, he squeezes me tight. “Talk to me, Ichan. I can carry it for both of us.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.” I whimper. “You already carry so much. It’s not fair if I let you carry me, too.”

“It is my privilege to carry you.” He chuckles, before abruptly sweeping me up - covers and all - and spinning me around. “You’re light as a feather!”

I squeal and hide my face in his chest.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“I’m tired.” I sniff, decorating his shirt with salty stains as I choke on a sob. “I’m tired of being ignored. I’m tired of everyone treating my problems like they’re not as bad as theirs. I just wanna sleep and never wake up.”

“Hey,” He coos, sitting back on the bed and pulling me closer. It feels like he’s trying to wring out all the sorrow from my bones. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t at least partially work. “You’re allowed to be tired of that. Even if you take a nap and realize you were just tired, you’re allowed to feel that way.”

“But I feel bad!” I cry, fingers grasping at him as I grow more certain he’ll leave, disgusted with every uttered word. “I’m not supposed to want things from them! They’re doing their best and I know they are–”

“Except you need them.”

“Except…I…” It hurts to admit. I can’t say it. I can’t need them. They need me to carry them. “But they’re all trying their best and I have no right to ask them for anything. It just feels like if I stopped talking to them altogether, nobody would notice I was gone. Nobody would notice that anything was wrong because I’m Ichijiku. And Ichijiku is always okay. Even when Ichijiku is suffering, she’s strong and she’ll get through it because it’s Ichijiku! Ichijiku can figure shit out on her own because they have to take care of themselves first and Ichijiku will be fine because she knows what they’re going through and they’re having a hard time. They can spend time with all of their other friends because Ichijiku will always be around. Ichijiku will never leave. Ichijiku would never get mad that they’re too busy for her. They can throw another brick on top of the pile because like Luisa, Ichijiku might buckle and bend but she’ll never break. She can handle it. She can fix her own problems.” My muscles clench and clench and clench until they’re sore.

“But Ichan,” Toshinori rubs my shoulders as he forces them to relax with his superior strength. “Sometimes, you can’t handle it.”

“I HAVE TO!” I roar, baring my teeth as I throw my head back to look at him. “I have to be able to handle it! Because if I don’t then who’s going to help everyone else?”

“Ichan,” Toshinori caresses my cheek, thumbing away tears. “That’s not your job.”

“But it is.” I cough, rubbing my eyes and shaking in my exhaustion. “They say it’s not, but every time I ask for help, they redirect me to their problems. It is because I can’t leave them to deal with it on their own like they can with me. I can’t leave it be because I’m scared they’ll get hurt. They’ll get sad. And no one will be there for them. So I’m here, Mr. Symbol. I AM HERE.” I huff, raking my fingers through my hair. If anyone understands that, it’s you. “And that’s fine. I don’t mind that. I would break myself in half a hundred times and cry every night and give limbs and organs and whatever other bodily instrument they need to keep them safe. To keep them happy. To keep them protected and of sound mind. But…” I open my mouth, unable to find the words.

“But there’s no one to do that for you.” Toshinori breathes, eyes glistening as I look at him. An understanding that breaks me and sews me back together reflects in those pretty blue eyes. “Someone’s always too busy. Everyone else has problems at the same time you do. Someone always needs your strength to help hold them up even when you’re tired and don’t know if you can…but you do it all the same.”

“Y-Yeah…” I shrivel back into his arms, heart aching as guilt weighs heavy.

He knows all about it because he does it every day. And here I am whining about it. Adding stress to one of his few rest times.

“Toshi, I’m–”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me.” He growls, gripping my jaw to make me look at him. “What did you tell me when I first met you? Before you ever knew I was All Might? You told me that you wished you could take the burden of every hero and carry it for a while. And when you learned I was All Might you did.” He kisses my lips, slowly carving out every soft crevice of my skin. “So don’t you dare apologize for letting me do the same.”

Silence hangs in the air like drying laundry as he holds me, breath heavy as he bears the brunt of my sadness for me. And for once, I let him.

Want More Toshinori? Try: The Straw

[shadowinthetreesbutcooler]

red team are FULLY going feral im so here for it, cellbit vouching for cannibalism and getting excited, baghera wanting to build a dirt shack and everyone wanting to crawl into a cave and chase people through the woods

[peachyhoneyadventures]

EDOLISSE AND VARRICK

These Hands, If Not Gods by Natalie Diaz | Still from When A Man Loves (1927) | Snippet from Richard Siken's "Crush" | Still from Lodger (???) | Poem from Margaret Atwood's "You are Happy"

[waywardvagabonds]

Trying to be patient but would really love it if i had a therapy appointment scheduled by now.

[lem-argentum]

i once saw someone contrast miko.fuu by claiming that f.uuta’s individualistic while mi.koto is not, but i would argue that miko is the one who puts himself first in his mind in most situations…….??? ?

[pardonmyfrenchbutwhattheheck]

"Howl Pendragon gender envy this, Howl gender envy that"

that's all fine and dandy, but grandma Sophie Hatter? LOOK AT HER

gotta be one of my favorite genders of all time

[wraenata]

Good luck with the wedding!! Hopefully it goes smoothly and the rest of the evening treats you kindly!!

Hehe I showed my bestie this during the reception/ dancing and it made her chuckle :3

Thank you Robin! We are finally free! That was a long 14 hour adventure, I'm going to be tired for the next 7 days oof.

Hey, I even danced to ONE song, so that's something!

But honestly, I think I had the most fun on the half hour drive back to besties place. We jammed out in her jeep XD

Tomorrow morning we will do the Asian Food Market and hopefully I can get some lotus root, and then the Farmers Market.

It was a beautiful wedding and I'm glad to have supported the bride but both bestie and I are so glad to be done with this endeavor. My bestie more so she was a little more antsy. If you read what happened at the Bachelorette party you'd know why lol. Guess what maid of honor lost AGAIN while we were getting ready asdfgjknfdr

Anyway thank you so much Robin I really appreciate it! I hope your weekend treats you wonderfully and all sorts of amazing things happen for you!

[septembersghost]

thinking about the quote from the end of Elvis, "

I’ll tell you what killed him. It was love. His love for all of you.

That voice rang out, and he sang with all his life."

and the reblogged ask about Taylor, and I know people don't want to hear this because we loved interacting with her and miss her, but I'm glad she has distance, im glad she's not killing herself for that love anymore.

i've touched on this a bit in comments with my friend @joons, who wrote really lovely meta about this here, and i'm going to quote her: "elvis, as a man, had such a generous spirit that no one—not his wife or manager or friends or fans—could stop him from digging deep and giving, even when it cost him everything. when his body was failing, his friends would ask him to postpone tours, to rest, to heal. and all he would do is gently smile and say, “it’ll be all right. don’t worry about it.” we may think the colonel is treating love lightly by bringing it up as a factor in elvis’ death, but this pivot in focus actually brings us the closest we ever get to knowing who elvis really was (something elvis himself promised he would reveal to his audience early in the film). his generosity is why he was so loved, and the colonel suggests it was his fatal flaw, that he cared so much about sharing his wealth, his talents, and himself with others that he did not care how much it hurt him. or rather, he did care, but he did not know how to stop sharing whatever he could to make other people happy, instead of attending to his own happiness. he gave people his trust and continued giving it long after they had stopped deserving it. and maybe wishing it had been different would be to wish elvis weren’t elvis."

the movie by default made me think about taylor quite a bit, despite the many clear differences, there are unavoidable similarities when it comes to the types of artists they are, who bare so much of themselves and are constantly giving and shimmering and trying and working to connect to their audiences. it's something taylor has addressed several times now, the rippling whisper of that anxiety and the clear slashed wound of it has been appearing in her work for years, and has crystallized further in her most recent music. i mentioned to chelsea how elvis made me think of dear reader (if it feels like a trap, you're already in one is so "suspicious minds" in the way it was utilized in the film, and never take advice from someone who's falling apart/so i wander through these nights, i prefer hiding in plain sight/my fourth drink in my hand/these desperate prayers of a cursed man/spilling out to you for free/but darling, darling, please/you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking viscerally made me think of him the first time i heard it after seeing the film). her fears about others seeing right through her, drunk as we watch her shattered edges glisten, that she doesn't do enough, that it's exhausting to root for her, that she desperately has tried her best and wanted to be loved (and make it seem effortless), that she shines so bright but that in itself is a kind of curse, that her desire to succeed is also an irredeemable quality, "your kindness is fake. your pain is manipulative,"...will you still want me when i'm nothing new?...it's splashed like a bloodstain all over her music and is such a sad, distressing facet of what she's gone through, but i also think there's an inherent quality in this that certain artists have - this wellspring of humanity, this boundless love that has nowhere else to go and springs forth from the music, the act of creating art, the euphoric feeling of performing, the intensity of love they feel from fans that, we have to acknowledge, can never be fully balanced or reciprocal because of the necessary and natural boundaries between us. i think taylor gave so much of herself when she was younger that it was corrosive to her person. she was struggling in such a way personally and still striving without end to be respected and embraced, and she gave a lot of that unfailingly to fans, maybe because she felt she had to as an extension of gratitude, maybe because she didn't feel loved and safe elsewhere, and also because she does feel a real sense of love in that way. but i think it was very hard on her too, and untenable. you can never reach everyone. you can never make everyone happy. you can never help everyone who needs help. you can never give all the love you wish you could give. it's a beautiful and admirable and even spiritual thing to share, but when does the line need to be drawn when you have to attend to your own needs and humanity first before collapsing under the weight of it?

all this said, i too am glad she's got a much healthier balance now, is very steadily loved in her daily life by a partner who gives her a sense of stability and quiet, and that she doesn't feel the need to give so much of herself away, outside of all the vulnerability within her art. it doesn't mean she doesn't care for us, i believe she means it whenever she thanks us, whenever she says she owes her career to us or she creates things for fun with us in mind (the easter eggs in the bejeweled video, as a recent example. she took a song about her feeling hurt and unappreciated, sadness became my whole sky, and wanting to sparkle again, and reinterpreted it visually to include her fans as a positive aspect), but i also think she's learned what she doesn't have to sacrifice.

there's an unerring empathy in the tragedy of elvis not knowing when to stop, how sincere that love he had was, how that itself was a type of defiance. "he loved and he gave, and he couldn’t do otherwise no matter how much people tried to stop him. and that simple truth is one last great gift." i do believe this endures and is a connective gift.

still, there's a strength in learning how to stopper that outpouring of oneself, one's heart and soul and love, too, and i do find that i'm thankful she's learned that, even when we miss her engaging as much, knowing she has a better sense of peace takes precedence. that love doesn't have to be fatal anymore. she's learned how to let it have its respite instead.

[muu-kun]

Speaking of fashion, I will eventually have the appropriate amount of time to dedicate myself to a proper attire headcanon post. For now, I only have examples for silhouettes pertaining to dresses gathered. Which at this point can ultimately be narrowed down in explanation as Muu holding preference for a bodice that does not require even just a modest breast size.

Although he does wear bralettes (which is not out of gender dysphoria or euphoria on any account actually. Instead, it is more so like a running joke with himself at this point due to the fact he's actually had an infatuation with wearing them since he was a sixteen year old boy that found a bra lying in the street) he doesn't do so with the intent of applying padding to them-- especially when considering the fact he has some minor gynaecomastia due to stubbornly persistent baby fat going on. He can deal with those, but he definitely doesn't want to even so much as imply he has "real breasts."

He also isn't one to gravitate towards those built around the necessity for breasts due to the fact that he does not wish for the attire adorning his body to appear as though something (or somethings) is missing. Which is also the given reason why even in his decision to wear what is considered women's underwear underneath the dresses similar to above, he does not engage in the act of tucking. Yes, that does come within treacherous territory per the fact that he is then advertising himself as a flamboyantly youthful individual with an occasionally visible (and not incredibly well endowed, mind you) genitalia outline in his attire. That's not even to mention the detectability of his disabilities on establishing conversation with him.

Beyond that, he's not too partial to much else. Length and material is otherwise irrelevant as long as he can freely move within it to accommodate an in-between active and sedentary lifestyle. He would also best appreciate those that are not overwhelming to the senses in one manner or another-- this includes itchiness, heaviness, lack of breathability, and so on. Textures usually aren't too worrisome to him, however, as he has been raiding the closet of his female friends (such as Hannah of @kannojo predominantly) for years, so by now he knows what he does and doesn't like with enough ease that even unexpectedly finding something is unappealing to him van be easily remedied without any fit.

The bottom line with all of this is while Muu strictly wears what is primarily marketed as women's clothing, he does not do so out of the desire to be a woman. In fact, he's asked that question within himself many times only to come up with the same conclusion each time: He is simply an aged up boy caught up in having to navigate too many things at once, therefore eccentricities intended to lighten his load have transpired. Being that 99% of abusers have been men throughout the years, and women his sanctuary from them, it became sensible at some point for him to cease one struggle for favor of mirroring his safety while he sources through another. Muu has no idea even how to be a person yet, let alone a gendered one.

That is also not to say he wishes to abolish entirely in favor of utilizing they/them pronouns. In fact, it still remains quite the opposite. At this time in his life, he's not looking to be othered more than he always has acquired for himself. Being gridlocked into a perpetual state of regression in his present has been isolating enough as is that he doesn't wish for more beyond that. It also has intriguingly been almost beneficial in keeping some of his identity centered, though, as being so interwoven with his inner teen provides connection with the perspective of character held back then.

When he was sixteen, he was very self assured in nearly all aspects in life until led to second guessing the bulk of them. Of those is one of which where he was well adamant that he was a boy with a preference for he/him pronouns to demonstrate that. And while he's been able to find appreciation for femininity that he'd have otherwise mocked in his youth, that is as far as it goes for the time being. Working beyond the semantics of that just isn't on the table at this time in his life.

Where he might go with it during Pride Month is still up to him, but, really, his focus is far more centered on fulfilling and answering other aspects of his person at this time. Generalized comfort and safety are of the utmost importance to his emotionally led manner of living. Once that is established, whether or not he opts for reintroducing what is considered men's attire back into his wardrobe is completely up in the air.

[heatwa-ves]

ruka tsukinaga....

[foulbearobservation]

still thinking about pacific rim

[floorpancakes]

🤔

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

In light of Brian Thompson being shot dead on my birthday (🎉🥳🎂) I'd like to share a personal story about UnitedHealthcare.

During the peak of COVID, my family all got sick. I couldn't be on my parents' insurance because they were both older and on Medicare. So, I had insurance through my University: UnitedHealthcare.

For some reason, rather than roll-over each year, I got a new plan each year that ended after May and didn't start until August, so I was uninsured for the summer months, but it was a weird situation that the university denied, and told us we were supposed to be insured year-round, it was messy.

Both of my parents went to the hospital, and I got sick too. I had to take care of my pets, and myself, and try to stay alive and keep my pets alive when I was so weak I could hardly move. When my parents came home, my condition got dramatically worse (I think my body knew it couldn't give out, because there was nobody to take care of me, so once my parents were okay, it completely crashed and failed.)

I started experiencing emergency symptoms. It was a bit hard to breathe, my chest hurt, and I was extremely delirious. I wanted to call my insurance to see if I was covered (this was during the summer) and I was connected to some nice person, probably making minimum wage, who told me with caution in her voice that my plan was expired. I had no active insurance, but she urged me to go to an emergency room. I remember saying something to the effect of "You just told me I don't have insurance, I can't go to the hospital, I can't afford it."

She sounded so genuinely worried and scared. I remember she said "You really don't sound good, you sound really sick, please call 9-1-1" and I think I just said "I can't afford it without insurance, don't worry, I think I'll be okay."

And she paused and said "I don't want to hang up the phone with you like this." And it sounded like she was holding back tears. And I don't remember what I said, I think that I would be okay, and I hung up.

I still think about her. I wonder if that phone call haunted her, or if she had dozens of calls like that a day. I wonder if she thinks about it at all, if she wonders if I died after she told me I didn't have insurance and therefore couldn't go to the hospital without incurring a tremendous financial burden. I wonder if she feels guilt or blame-- of course she shouldn't, it wouldn't have been her fault if anything had happened to me. Maybe it's self-centered to wonder if she thinks about it. I'm not the main character and it was just her job. But, still.

I think about how evil it was that we were put in that situation. Because offering year-long continuous coverage through the university plan would maybe cut into profits, maybe not benefit shareholders enough, maybe cut into Thompson's $10 million salary. While his minimum wage administrators have to feel afraid to hang up the phone, because on the other line someone might be dying, and they wouldn't know. While his patients hang up and decide to take their chances rather than put their family through that trauma.

This is UnitedHealthcare. This is Brian Thompson's legacy. This is why, understandably, an entire nation is jubilant that he was gunned down like the vermin he was. I don't care about his widow. I feel pity for his children, despite the fact that they will inherit millions, but I feel more pity for the children of his victims patients who are gone because they didn't want THEIR children to inherit crippling debt. Brian Thompson got what he fucking deserved. I pray that he not be the only one. I pray for continued safety, peace , and anonymity for his killer.

American healthcare is a disease.

[featherymainffins]

Ough I fucking hate holidays because it is my duty as a child to visit my parents and just take whatever the fuck happens to me.

[girlivealwaysbean]

dni.

[heyitslapis]

its times like this when i really wish i had an SO's shoulder to cry on

Because I think i factrued/sprained my foot the other day it happened wednesday but its still pretty swollen and pops when i try to walk on it without hobbling. i know i signed up for health insurance through work. i wrote down the insurance company name as Bayside and I have my personal insurance id number but the card never came in/got lost in the mail (and i already called for one replacement that never came so idk if theyll send me a third) so i cant confirm the insurance name nor call them, but i need to because ive called/visited 5 health care facilities around me and NONE of them have even heard of Bayside. So im calling the phone number that my manager provided me with telling me that was the insurance company. I keep calling the number (and mind you ive called them before to try to get a second insurance card sent to me but that was in like April) and i get that its saturday but theres no answer and the stupid automated machine wont let me leave a voicemail. the automated answering voice on the phone also says that theyre called National Benefit Plans by SafetyNet and google says the phone number im using belongs to National Benefit Plans out in San Antonio Tx (i live no where near there). I found National Benefit Plans' website on SafetyNetPlus dot com but National Benefit Plans doesnt have their own website, just through SafetyNet, and also the SafetyNet website says on a side panel that "this is NOT insurance" and instead keeps saying "health benefits" instead so idk what the fuck ive been paying for for the last 6 months tbh and im having an emotional breakdown bc i dont want to fuck my foot up for life just cause i couldnt figure out my health insurance/benefits shit