#if you have health insurance of any kind

[forlornmelody]

Today's List of Nice Things:

My client and I listened to a LOT of Skald today. So good.

Speaking of, he's been swimming at the gym every day since we went on Monday, and HE GOT A FULL NIGHT OF SLEEP AND WAS READY TO WORK TODAY. HOLY SHIT.

Got to finally release two original projects today. I'm exhausted, but happy.

Hacks making me feel all the feels today.

[aromanticbastards]

the process of getting therapy that my insurance pays for is stupid enough that i want to kill every single fucking person involved in designing this process

(suicide mention tw for the tags i didn't get to put that as the first tag so now it's here)

[irregularbillcipher]

being an adult sucks man

[windrunner]

boring panic planning talk

okayyyy so. i have found apartments in the $800 a month range in an area with a lot of public transport and places which I could hopefully apply 2. my only issue with that is like. 1. will most likely have to get my mother to co-sign that. and 2. will most likely absolutely need to find a roommate(s) within around the first to third month time range. assuming i do not simply go Poverty mode again and just only eat food pantry food + do not buy anything that is not for explicit immediate survival. in which case.... that price range is sustainable until I simply stop being sustainable. which really Depends on my luck more than anything. but idk. i could swing something with someone i know is okay, most likely, if not put up a listing and heavily vet randoms.

[medicinemane]

Hmm... I'm mad right now, and thanks to tumblr's search being ass I can't even fully say why

I just remember that bolton said some shit a few years back that really pissed me off... something along the lines of just brazening talking about organizing coups or something... like it was that level

Now, I reblogged the clip from the interview to be mad about it at the time, but searching for bolton on my blog... no hits

Couldn't even remember his name for a hot minute there, just thought "that asshole with the big mustache", but man... I wish I could literally just find and reblog the clip... I could probably track it down with a search engine, but then it wouldn't be easy to just reblog it, so I'd probably just end up summarizing it... and I'm too tired for that

Anyway, fuck john bolton and fuck the US government. I get fucking sick of the total lack of accountability those assholes have. Honestly a fair few of them should probably be on trial for war crimes, and we shouldn't protect them

Just hit with a sudden wave of being pissed off about this stuff, so there it is

[cleolinda]

Phone scam gothic

So my mom sits down and starts telling me about two weird-ass phone calls she had today—she was returning a missed call, and the woman who answered just… sobbed for a minute. I’m sitting here asking, like, a whole minute? Nothing else, just sobbing? Who did you THINK you were calling back?

“United Healthcare, they have my Medicare plan. They’ve been calling me for weeks without leaving any voicemail.”

(Are you sure it was United Healthcare? “It was the same number that’s on my card, I checked, and that’s who the caller ID said it was.”)

Are you sure it was a whole minute? Did YOU say anything?

“Yes, like sixty seconds while I kept going ‘Hello? Hello?’ It sounded like she was having a nervous breakdown, I kept waiting to see if she’d tell me what was even wrong. Finally I just hung up.”

And then my mom turned right around and called back again, because she was gonna get to the bottom of this.

This time she got a different woman, perfectly calm, who wanted to set up “your in-home direct patient care home health visit.”

At this point (at this point?) I’m staring, because no one here currently has anyone coming to the house to help with any kind of medical care. My mom might honestly be the healthiest member of the household, but even I don’t use any home services, herniated discs and all. “Did they have you… confused with someone else?”

“No, she repeated my full name and phone number back to me.”

This lady then started ARGUING with my mother. Why don’t you want us to come to your house to manage your direct patient care? Don’t you need home health care to be managed? Why don’t you need home health care? Why would you not want home health care? “I JUST KIND OF HAVE HIGH CHOLESTEROL?” But don’t you want us to manage your home health care? “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO MANAGE HEALTH CARE I DON’T USE?”

My mom finally hung up on this lady as well, without giving her any real information.

The more we talked about it, the more things we started to notice:

I was incredibly creeped out by the unsolicited use of the word “manage,” for some reason. Very sinister “write me into your will” vibes for some reason—I don’t know what these people want, but they’re gonna get you to sign something over.

My mom got especially stuck on “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE?!”

My mom has used home health services before… years ago, before she was on Medicare. But this company wouldn’t know about that. However, if you’re on Medicare, you’re over 65. Having not ever dealt with my mother before, someone calling a Medicare user might be playing the odds that a person over 65 is 1) in frail health and 2) old enough to get easily confused.

Fair play to my mom, she’s the one who thought of number spoofing. I’m so busy not answering the phone ever and arranging all my medical communications to happen through passworded portals that I didn’t think of it.

Hey, are you guys, like… holding someone hostage…?

So at this point, I google “United Healthcare scam.”

The “health insurance counselor”

This fraudster will offer help navigating the health insurance marketplace for a fee, capitalizing on people’s confusion about the state-based health exchanges created through the Affordable Care Act.

What to know

This sort of assistance is indeed available and is legitimate, but the people who offer it – also known as “navigators” – aren’t allowed to charge for their services. Also, remember that people with Medicare coverage don’t need to use the state health exchanges. The exchanges are for people under the age of 65, who are looking to enroll in an individual health plan.

Change “navigate” to “manage,” and I think this is it, although the lady on the phone never mentioned any fees. Either my mom didn’t let her get that far, or this is the point of actually getting into someone’s house: persuading them face-to-face to pay something, and potentially refusing to leave until the scammer has worn their target down.

Medicare does not make unsolicited phone calls.

Okay, so it was a scam no matter what it was about. As far as I’m concerned, my mom should contact Actual United Healthcare about it, and I’m here to spread the good word of Never Believing Anyone on the Phone 2k24. I don’t know what to tell you about the lady having the nervous breakdown though.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 (pending)

Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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[a-b-riddle]

check tags for warnings

In the mood to write angst. Imagine you’re the conscientious observer who accidentally sees how your team talks about you behind your back.

Your morals were… complicated. You didn’t believe in killing anyone. Your faith told you that killing someone is wrong and even if it’s to save your life, handling a gun is something that doesn’t sit well with you. You’ve been to gun ranges. Mandatory for your position in the military that you have basic fire arm knowledge. But having something in your hands that could so easily take a life made you uneasy.

You were pescatarian, but tried to limit meat. Cried anytime you saw chickens in those trucks heading toward their demise. You fed stray cats around your house back home. You tried to be kind and cherished life in all most of its forms. The exception being garlic butter shrimp that was too good to give up and anytime of bug resembling a cock roach. And yes, palmetto bugs were still cock roaches.

And wasps.

Fuck wasps.

At the same time, you were pro-choice. Initially, you were pro-choice for other women, but you didn’t think you would have the strength to get an abortion. It wasn’t until you were holding your friend’s hand as she got her D&C that your views on your own body autonomy changed. It didn’t have to be medical to be necessary.

But you still refused to hold a weapon. Which is why even though you were a very talented medic, you were always judged for not carrying any sort of defense while in the field.

But no one on base would dare say anything to you about it. At least not to your face…

You got stuck instructing a training seminar when your phone continued to buzz in your back pocket. But even with the consistent messages, you didn’t falter by showing the newest members how to give basic first aid until health could arrive.

Nearly two hours later, you finally fish your phone out to see what’s going on.

Dozens of text messages in a group chat between you, Captain Price, Johnny, Kyle and Simon. You had gotten close to them over the last few months. You were halfway through your contract and were already dreading leaving knowing they were staying behind until the job is done.

You open it, your phone taking you to the first unread message.

Cpt.: Hows the arm healing up?

Soap: Fine. Hen did a good job of keeping the sutures nice and even. Should barely scar.

Gaz: Wouldn’t have a scar if she just fucking carried.

Soap: You think she honestly would even know what to do with a gun if you gave her one Garrick 😂

Ghost: Still think she’s a liability. Someone who won’t raise arms against an enemy isn’t meant to be on the team.

Cpt: Already tried. Laswell says we need the numbers. As long as she does her job there’s nothing I can do. We can’t be down a medic and it’s either her or nothing.

You shook as you continued reading the conversation.

Liability. Coward. It went on and on about how weak you were. Why couldn’t you just carry a small pistol instead of expecting everyone else to keep you safe.

It then switched to your personality. No one should be that happy. Annoying. A yapper. Couldn’t get a word in most of the time.

On and on they went until you realized they spoke so freely because they didn’t realize you were in this group chat. What did they say when you weren’t around?

You felt like a fool having extending more than just trying to be a civil coworker, but a friend. Taking on tasks that weren’t your responsibility simply to help them.

Getting a floral arrangement delivered for Johnny’s sister after she had given birth. Talking on the phone to the nursing home where Price’s mother resided trying to sort out her insurance. Taking priority Kyle when he was injured after falling out of a plane (both times) over your other patients. And always having the electric kettled going in the morning so Simon could have his tea without waiting too long.

You were helpful. Just because you had one boundary didn’t mean their words held any merit. But still you couldn’t help the deep feeling of just… betrayal? Rejection? You weren’t sure there was a word fitting enough to sum up how utterly stupid you felt.

Maybe they were right. This wasn’t a civilian setting. This wasn’t just life and death for your patients, but for you. You were out in the field with no form of protection except from others.

You weren’t abandoning your morals. You couldn’t. Not when every fiber of your being told you to remain steadfast. There was only one solution.

You didn’t have much to pack. Uniform was issued to you. Your stethoscope and some other tools came out of your own pocket. Your laptop, phone, charges. You packed all your lounging clothes and miraculously everything fit into a military duffle. Which wasn’t actually anything impressive given how big those things are.

You were confident in your decision even if it made you feel like a failure.

As you stood outside the office door you returned back to the group chat. One by one you proceeded to block all of them. You knew when you left the group they would know that the notification would pop up and they either wouldn’t give a shit that you finally knew what the actually thought of you or they tried messaging you to make amends to cover their asses. You weren’t sure which was worse.

Once you had blocked the last one, you left and knocked on the door that you had been idling in front of. A faint ‘come in’ was granted before you walked through.

“Hey, Kate.” You greeted. “Can we talk?”

[astrogre]

People Represented in each House

Including niche examples

1H

Yourself, your persona. You as an individual. Your role models (projection of your ideal self)

2H

Business partners, business collaborators, acting/modelling/any agency you are under. Podcasters you listen to, literal social media influencers, salesman, your self esteem mentors,your real estate agent, your savings coach, your bank, your stockbroker

2H includes people who influence how you earn money. 2H represents people who can influence your personal values and your self esteem E.g a Ben Shapiro to a politically curious individual, the kardashians to a teenage girl. 2nd house can also represent people involved in the maintenance, acquisition and management of your possessions and finances

3H

Your siblings, your neighbours, your relatives like extended family, peers and acquaintances like the people in your class you know of but don’t talk to enough to say they’re your friend, peers, acquaintances, colleagues/coworkers, professors, educational teachers, speaking coach, language teacher

3H is related to intellectual pursuits, learning, just all forms of intellectual development, mercury sits well here. It’s about the people who you interact with daily as they influence your way of communication The individuals here would influence your communication style, interests and knowledge

4H

Your mother (mother figure if you don’t have a mother), your parents but particularly your mother figure, the collective of your whole family, ancestors, caregivers, people that live in your house like your flatmates, your housemates, housekeepers, butlers

4H represents the physical home, the mother, familial connections, nurturers etc. so the people here would be the ones living in it and those who have influence in your domestic life

5H

Your children, your inner child, you as a parent, your nieces, your nephews, romantic partners (short term), artistic partners E.g co-writers, collaborators, people involved in your projects, your students, your mentees, your investors, your hook up partners, people who you gamble or just play games with.

5H represents children, creativity, your mentoring to others, gambling, fun, joyful light love affairs, it’s also ruled by Leo. So we have these people involved with these themes

6H

Coworkers, colleagues, employees, staff (individuals who work under you or provide a service to you), your doctor, your contractors, your nurses, your teammates, your healthcare providers, your therapist, your career coach, your internship mentor, your assistants, your service providers, your pets, your gym colleagues, your fitness instructor, your nutritionist, your organiser, your HR department, your vet

6H represents work environment, daily routines, service, health and well-being, these are the people that you find under that setting

7H

Romantic partners, your spouse, life partner, your closest friends, confidants, allies, your supporters, your business partners, anyone you form a pact with, your clients, your customers (the kind you engage with in professional settings), your lawyers, your legal team, your competitors, your opponents, your matchmaker, your wedding planner, your relationship therapist

7H ruled by Libra represents all relationships that also includes bad ones btw, business relationships, marriage, 7H represents companions, partnerships, professional relationships, legal matters, professional representation so the people that fall under this house would be those that build relationships with you

8H

Financial partners/advisors, therapists, inheritors, beneficiaries (who you inherit from), occult teachers, your intimate long term sexual partners, your accountant, your councillors, your psychologist, your insurance agents, your estate planners, your morticians

8H is associated with death, sex, psychology, transformation, joint resources etc. and so these are the kind of people that 8H would represent

9H

Your professors, your teachers, your spiritual leaders, your priest, your pastor, your favourite scholars, your favourite philosophers, your lawyers, your judges, your legal advisors, your authors, your educational materials, your foreign friends, your foreign connections.

alike to 3H in education but 9H rules higher education so it’s an octave higher than 3H in terms of the teachers associated with it. 9H also represents justice and law so it would include people that work in this field that you encounter

10H

Your father, your boss, your mentor, your manager, people of authority, your parents (father in particular), influential figures you look up to, e.g your fave celebrities, government, politicians, your PR team, your publishers, you as a role model, your admirers like the people who look up to you, influencers, your business, icons

10H association with self-image and reputation and classic Saturn authority would include those who are involved in those themes

11H

Friends, peers. Social activists, humanitarians, philanthropists, inventors, forecasters, visionaries, leaders, community organisers, trendsetters

different from 3H in the sense that with 11H friends, you actually share the same goals and interests in mind whereas with 3H it’s mostly an exchange of communication about these parts of yourself and they are less as significant in your social life compared to 11H type of friends

12H

Spiritual beings, your religion, spiritual forces, your subconscious mind, artists, creative people, writers, hospital patients, prisoners, monks, religious people, volunteers, dreamers, charities.

12H represents those that can derive what is within their inner secluded world and bring it into reality. It’s associated with empathy, mental/spiritual state, seclusion and the bed. The people here would be those that would retreat, help others and tap into realms beyond the physical)

[fashion-runways]

okay it's been over a year and i keep saying i'm going to make a new post and it's too exhausting to even think about the whole thing so i keep pushing it-- here's the link to the old post if you want a more detailed thing i wrote back then.

anyway, a year ago, out of the blue, our apartment got raided by the police, they broke our front door, they broke a bunch of shit inside, they took a bunch of our stuff, they barely gave us answers or an explanation, they took my dad and made it seem like he would have to sign some stuff and answer some questions and come back, but it's been over a year (since june 2022) and he hasn't come back, and his case is still up in the air. they're barely working on it. they didn't pay for all the shit they broke, they haven't returned all the shit they took, we had to spend a lot of money on that, i had to take a loan to buy a new computer so i could keep working and studying, on top of spending even more money on basic needs for my dad in jail and lawyers, plus blood pressure and anxiety medications, plus he's old and he was scheduled an eye surgery that he obviously couldn't go to so he's like, practically blind in one eye now, also new clothes for him to wear there (there's a bunch of rules for that), honestly i already lost track of how many things we had to pay for. it's been incredibly stressful and it still is even now that we've gotten used to it. he's been detained for a year for something that they still don't even know if he did and the case is barely moving, i don't know if they're like... i don't know, waiting for the man to die in there since he's already old so they don't have to admit they don't have enough proof for all the mess they made? i don't know. like i said back then, please don't ask me for details on the case or show up in my inbox trying to play tiktok true crime and guess what he did/didn't do. it happened a few times and it's extremely triggering, please don't. please.

this blog is basically my job. it's my primary source of income, i don't have anything else, no matter how many interviews i go to, in the country/city i live and in the state our economy is, if you don't have contacts it's impossible to get a job. i'm always signing up to free programs to learn new things while i don't have a job, try to make my cv bigger, but it doesn't matter. if you don't have someone saying “please hire my friend/family member” or you don't have 500 years of experience, they won't. so like i said, donations people make to this blog are how me and my mom (and my pets) stay afloat. it's what we use to pay for food, general groceries, transportation, electricity, wifi, water, gas, health insurance, stuff for my dad in jail, meds for my mom who has diabetes, food and meds for my pets. i don't go out much, i haven't gotten a haircut in a year, i barely spend money in anything that makes me happy except once in a blue moon when i stop feeling guilty lmao i had a redbubble account also that helped a little too, but last week it got suspended without an explanation as i was uploading new designs, so i don't even have that now. i made a new account on teepublic, but all my designs in high quality are locked behind redbubble and i can't even log into because of the suspension. it's... complicated, and it's a lot, but it is what it is.

i'm always keeping an eye out on new collections, new designers, new cool things. like i said, i love fashion, i studied fashion, and i know a lot of you use this blog as inspiration whether it's for yourselves or for your art, so i don't want to post all similar stuff all the time, i want to post all kinds of styles and brands as much as i can. which is why when i say if you like this blog, if you want to support me, sending even the smallest amount of money helps me keep going. living in latin america, the exchange rate is kind of insane, so truly any amount of money donated helps. unfortunately, i never stop needing money to survive and help keep my family afloat, but in the past year more than ever.

as usual, my kofi link is this one: https://ko-fi.com/fashionrunways and my (new) teepublic link is this one: https://www.teepublic.com/user/dinah-lance. if my redbubble account gets reinstated, i'll add that link eventually too. and as always, thanks for loving this blog and for loving fashion like i love fashion, even when i post crazy looking stuff, and thanks for helping. you have no idea how much your support helps, but it really does, i don't even know if i'd be alive right now if it wasn't for this blog.

[teaboot]

Would you say the work of a kitten is worth it? I’ll probably just get one that’s a bit grown up anyway (if I ever get a cat at all, here’s hoping!) but idk I’m curious I guess

I mean kind of yes kind of no? I think it depends on what you're looking for

A 20 year commitment is kind of terrifying, and I think if I'd had a full choice I'd have found an adult cat that was already chill with living solo with me, but now that I have my boy I'd choose him 100%

Benefits of a kitten are you can decide early what you want it to be used to, how to react to startling sounds, how to walk on a leash or wear a harness or ride on your shoulders or on your backpack, you can get them dewormed and vaccinated early to prevent later issues, get them into good habits before they become difficult to change. They're also easier to register for insurance.

In an adult cat they already have an established personality and preferred routine so you can know what you're getting into, and especially a senior cat it's still a rewarding and loving experience even with the health concerns along the way.

This is my first time fully raising and training an indoor cat by myself, but so far it has been 1. Exhausting and 2. An incredible bonding experience.

End of rhe day, I dunno, I've never really been disappointed with any of my cats. Once you love them I've found the work doesn't matter

[theomnicode]

How does Genos show he cares? How to write a relatable cyborg character

Warning: Very long post incoming, tl;dr at the bottom

This meta doubles as Genos appreciation post. :D

Ever since his introduction, Genos has shown multiple times his very humane side of caring about Saitama and caring about defeating evil for the betterment of mankind. (Chapter 5: Itch explosion)

The first line he utters to Saitama is to tell him to hide because he does not want this casualty and when he forgets Saitama was there with him, he worries about him having become a casualty to his incinerator. (Chapter 6: Saitama)

Genos has to resort to almost blowing himself and mosquito girl up because he sees no other way to rid the world of such a powerful monster, but fortunately Saitama intervenes. They exchange names and go their merry way but later on, Genos knock on his door as he promised he would. Saitama is very uncertain about this new cyborg buddy of his, but he lets him in regardless and they have a chat.

Here Genos shows that he also worries about Saitama's health, after having barely met him, when he considers how odd it is that Saitama has balded completely at his age already, which is very abnormal medically considering. (Chapter 7: Mysterious raid)

Genos seems to have bunch of medical knowledge inside his head, as later on in the series he improvises a defiblirator and would have used it on Tank-top master if Bang hadn't gotten his heart started first. (Chapter 144: Silver fang)

He also remarks about Kombu's not so proven scientitic research about it growing hair when Saitama has defeated the Kombu monster and taken the leaf parts for him to eat, making the assumption that Saitama must've gotten the Kombu for growing out his hair. Genos cares a lot about Saitama's health already and they're barely acquainted at best at this point. (Chapter 20: Rumour)

The first duo battle they have shows Genos showing a lot of concern towards Saitama's well being, even when he really does not have to, but he's not yet acquainted well with the level of power Saitama actually possesses so he would not need to worry so much. (Chapter 7: Mysterious raid)

He also looks very disdraught about the fact that he cannot just rush to Saitama's aid because he's too busy himself with Armored gorilla, when the other monster decides to take advantage of Saitama's immobile state. (Chapter 8: You mean this guy?)

Poor Genos is such a worrywart because of his own trauma of losing everything in an instant, it honestly does him good to be able to trust Saitama and that Saitama cannot be harmed that easily. It is good that nowdays, he trusts in Saitama's capabilities to handle himself and he worries a lot less (Chapter 165: Absolute evil), even if he immediately went for an enthusiastic armless glomp on him the moment he saw Saitama was back safe and sound. (Chapter 168: Awakening of the gods)

Otherwise he might want to rush to Saitama's aid without thinking about himself and his own opponent first, like he does with Armored Gorilla, who manages to grab his shoulder when he turns his back to his own enemy. If he cares too much, he lets his guard down against enemies and that is not a good habit to have when his enemies are extremely strong.

A very glaring weakness that could be exploited without mercy in any kind of (double) battle if he does not have the insurance that Saitama is just about impossible to be harmed...well, physically at least.

Genos trust in Saitama's capabilities has unfortunately gotten to the point where he thinks Saitama is an answer to every possible problem mankind could face and where Saitama is basically some sort of messiah. Not without reason either, because Saitama performed some insane feats during the Garou fight. (Chapter 166-168, Chapter 173.)

-*-

Moving back in timeline, Genos is instantly very protective of Saitama, to the point of zealousness and jealosy popping up from time to time when other people try to monopolise Saitama's time to themselves.

Genos overprotectiveness early on also shows in way that he wants to take care of anything that might threathen Saitama's well being without mercy, like blowing up the entirety of the House of Evolution building and ramming himself into the next enemy he sees, that being Carnage Kabuto, but in doing so he can and will easily overexert himself. (Chapter 11: The key to his power)

Genos has immediately become the guard dog of Saitama, that even Flashy flash makes a remark on and tells Genos to sit out like a dog, that Genos immediately refutes by having a peep hole into Saitama's apartment and rejects the proposal of Flashy becoming Saitama's master. (Chapter 193: World I know nothing about)

Genos just outright refuses anybody from monopolising Saitama's time to themselves when he's the one who feels like he has the right to 1 on 1 interaction with Saitama, being his obsessive disciple. 😂

Anybody who dares to waste Saitama sensei's precious time, they have to go through him first.

Early on, Saitama has also learned that he can't scare Genos away with his problems. Genos is far too loyal and even if Saitama wanted to stew with his problem alone, Genos cares far too much already and is far too loyal to be sidelined that easily. (Chapter 15: Hobby and work)

Saitama has also learned that Genos can get quite passionate, intimidating and murderous even if he feels like Saitama's been hurt in some way, such as embarrassed due to low score on his exam when Genos thinks he deserves much better scores, so Saitama has to rein him in lest he seriously go off on some random poor dude who just examined his scores. (Chapter 16: Passed the exam)

(Ah Genos, always over the top reaction. Never change. :D)

-*-

One thing about Genos that gives him points in Saitama's eye is that he is quite willing to explain any concept to Saitama, without judgement even if the logical deduction of said thing would've been easy for to understand. Other people might make snide remarks at Saitama, but not Genos. (Chapter 17: Sparring)

Genos also always has Saitama's best interest in hand and asks if he's going to be fine considering his hero rank and that he hasn't seen Saitama active. (Chapter 18: Business activity)

Genos integrates into Saitama's life almost seamlessly, from grocery shopping to meticulously cleaning the house each and every day, from cleaning the windows, vacuuming, cooking, doing dishes and even scrubbing the toilet on daily basis. There is a lot house work that he does for Saitama.

However, the most outstanding character quality in Genos is that he refuses to give up, no matter how dire or dark the situation may seem, such as during the meteor incident, where he goes completely alone to face such a dragon level threat that it could wipe out the entire city and then some. He cares much about Saitama, but so does he care about the innocent citizens getting caught by such a disaster. (Chapter 21: Giant meteor)

Being close to Saitama, it gives Genos strenght to carry on through even the most difficult tasks shoved on him, because not trusting himself enough and his capabilities will only cause him to hesitate in the face of potential collateral damage and that can be a big weakness in itself when time is of the essence.

After the meteor incident has been dealt with, Genos also shows that he cares a lot about Saitama's feelings and does not want them to be hurt, so that is why he omits telling him that public has made Saitama their enemy, hoping that with time their unjust anger would fade. Unfortunately, that is not to be because Saitama goes outside and faces these angry people anyway. (Chapter 22: Voices)

Genos holds Saitama is very high regard and immediately writes down Saitama's inspiring quote. It is not enough that he cares about his physical and mental well being, but he also cares about Saitama as the person and his feelings, even if he idolizes him a lot.

This trait is further explored in the anime with the extra scene where Genos comes to bring Saitama back home because he worries for Saitama's well being again since the public is turned against him, listens to Saitama's rant and affirms his feelings but still tells Saitama that he would always follow him, no matter what the public thinks about him. Saitama however does not quite get it and only thinks Genos is just buttering him up like earlier, with complements and such, because he does not think of himself very highly but it still manages to bring a smile to his face, something that Genos unfortunately does not get to see. (Episode 7, The greatest apprentice)

Genos being a caring, loyal, headstrong and hardworking protector is put to another test against Sea King, where he gets pummeled and pummels back as much as he can give in an incredible fight, but chooses again to self-sacrifice himself to save a little girl from the corrosive acid of Sea king when he sees no other option to save her, besides throwing his more resilient cyborg body in the way, but at the same time, allows himself to become inoperable and at the mercy of Sea king. (Chapter 26: Glimmer of hope)

It is in Mumen rider's care and headstrong intervention that saves Genos from dying at the hands of Sea King because Saitama had become lost and only just made it there to save them both. At the end, Genos contemplates that he will still follow Saitama, even if the public turned on him en masse and he found himself in a tight spot. (Chapter 28: Since it's raining)

As soon as the letters start pouring in about their heroics, Genos sees how ugly the masses treat Saitama in the form of hate letters and he does not want to stand idly by while everyone throws disparaging comments about Saitama. But poor Genos also feels like he's the one to blame, for showing the letters to Saitama. 😭

This has become quite a long ramble about how Genos is very caring, headstrong, hardworking hero and I could go on for even longer than that since I've only checked out the first portion of the manga for this meta to use as examples, but as a final thought, not a whole lot encompasses Genos as a character than the last panels I can put into this post.

Genos cares so much he does not just fiercely fight for the individuals; he fights for his sensei, for the citizens, for the other heroes and for the world to be a better place, rid of evil. That he still came to Tatsumaki's aid even when the situation seemed hopeless because he could. This humane side of him is very relatable, caring about our loved ones and other human beings is very intrinsical to our own well being as social people. (Chapter 134: Twist & Chapter 137: Resonance)

However, he still has those self-destructing tendencies that are hopefully curbed now that he got positive reinforcement from Saitama for not blowing himself up, so that he values himself a bit more. That he is not expendable piece. (Chapter 155: Results)

Last thoughts, Genos is incredibly passionate individual when it comes to protecting others and avenging his loved ones. He even threw his remainder of a torso directly at Cosmic Garou, just because he's resistant to radiation, with his brain being encompassed behind heavy fortifications. (Chapter 166: Squared.)

(^ Chapter 186: Turning point ^)

Hope y'all enjoyed this incredibly long post about Genos and how he shows his caring side. :D

Thank you @themisterhip for this meta idea on discord. :)

Tl;dr Genos is hardworking, passionate, very caring, meticulous, fierce, intelligent and well-researched individual who fights to the best of his ability for other people, no matter what it takes. Ironically, Genos is one if not the most humane character in the series, despite being a cyborg.

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[55ludovicoplace]

Hi there. Turns out I have significantly less money than I planned on having right now. I still have yet to find regular work beyond the odd underpaid freelance gig and continue to have no health insurance. Unfortunately I must beg on the internet for financial assistance as I only have two days left before I run out of some pretty crucial medications. The lack of health insurance means that refilling my prescriptions runs me upwards of $150 that I simply don't have.

[paypal.me] any little bit helps, thank you for your kindness.

[12percentspider]

Do you or someone you know need insulin?

Is there someone in your inbox asking for money because clearly they don't know there's help out there? *winkwinknudgenudge say no more say no more* Well, if it's you or anyone else, here's some links to resources for almost anything you could need that relates in some way to being diabetic.

^Long, is a huge list for pretty much ANY complication you could have with diabetes in general. It does explain different kind of insurance plans, would be good for long-term needs. Seems very US based, but there may be equivalent resources in specific other countries that you could probably find with a quick search using these options as search terms. [I did link a couple of worldwide (give or take) sites below]

^US-based list of resources that cover so many different complications that can arise from being diabetic as well as some veterinary resources if your animals need care (if someone in your inbox needs it, point them in that direction?).

^ US-based, exactly what it says on the tin plus more.

Outside of US:

^ Global (mostly). Lists countries that have restrictions, but gives you an application to fill out. They check to see if you're eligible, but it could very well be worth a shot.

^Lists specific countries that have financial resources.