#cw: MDD

[badaziraphaletakes]

I don't understand why you and your followers can't write "I read a take that said this" instead of posting the actual screenshot, which triggers a witch hunt for the OP to send hate for that specific shot you posted. If you post the takes with the handles attached, hate will be sent even more easily to the OP. If you read the OP's name and then choose at your discretion what to post... how do you manage it? Do you decide how many times the same person can be the target? What are the criteria?

I read under another post that people are happy to be blocked by so called Aziraphale haters. But, if someone wants to be blocked and never see their takes again, why do they specifically go after the “haters” to send screenshots to you and hate to the OP? Why don't you block them and instead wait for them to block you? I ask this with sincere curiosity. I assume that you are in good faith and don't want the fandom to be reduced to a small group of people. I don't write meta or analysis, so I'm not worried about being the target of anything. But a user I’ve been followed since season 2 who posted a lot of interesting metas (a bunch of them supporting Aziraphale and talking about his trauma) deactivated their blog for receiving a lot of hate after simply saying that maybe (not even definitely) Aziraphale screwed up in the end. It seems to me that the tones are a bit overheated. And posting the screenshots, even if you are in good faith, helps to keep the discourse going, in my opinion. I don't know, you have to do what you think is best, of course.

I don't understand why you and your followers can't write "I read a take that said this" instead of posting the actual screenshot

I have written about this in previous posts. LSS people are too scared to reply to the original takes, and it is reassuring to people who felt hurt by the takes to see the specific takes that are triggering to them get called out. I get a message to that effect, thanking me, at least once a day.

If you post the takes with the handles attached, hate will be sent even more easily to the OP.

We have never done that, we have never considered doing that, we never suggested doing that, and we are never going to do that. They will ALWAYS be anonymous.

If you read the OP's name and then choose at your discretion what to post... how do you manage it? Do you decide how many times the same person can be the target? What are the criteria?

About 80% of the takes that are submitted to us are submitted with the handles cropped out. We're instituting a policy for at least awhile of having the handles included when they are submitted to us so we can avoid it sharing too many posts by any one person (still a super weird coincidence that that ever happened - though I think it's relevant to point out here that by far the most obvious explanation for how that happened is that, since that person apparently has a ton of followers - so the reason so many people submit their takes to us is BECAUSE A LOT OF PEOPLE SEE THEM! - Occam's Razor). But we will always crop out the handles before posting. I (Mod X) have even cropped out non-default background colors to help with that. We take this seriously.

When the names are included I make a point of not posting too many by one person. I actually have thrown out a ton of that person's takes when people have submitted them to us with the handle attached, because I wanted to keep things in balance. And I have SIGNIFICANTLY toned down the commentary attached to many of the bad takes people have submitted to me.

I read under another post that people are happy to be blocked by so called Aziraphale haters. But, if someone wants to be blocked and never see their takes again, why do they specifically go after the “haters” to send screenshots to you and hate to the OP? Why don't you block them and instead wait for them to block you?

This is exactly how it unfolded, as it happens. The person who, it transpires, we posted a lot of takes from (but NOT the majority of the takes we've posted - it turns out that, as far as we can tell, we posted more from them than any other one individual, but we are certain that the majority of the takes we posted were still from other people) blocked the blog about ten minutes after it was created - because they said "depression doesn't exist" and we replied with a link to an article on MayoClinic saying that depression *does* exist (it's another term for Major Depressive Disorder. But I digress). Seriously, THAT was what they blocked us for. They didn't even reply.

And we have NEVER encouraged people to harass OP's. Omitting handles was supposed to prevent that. It should have prevented that.

[tearsofthepup]

something i really hate is how hygiene is looked down upon when someone can’t uphold standards ( ex : showering every day / every other day , brushing their teeth , etc . ) due to mental health , regression , or anything else . instead , we’re looked at as disgusting and lazy .

“ disgusting and lazy “ for having a mental health condition that makes it hard for us to keep ourselves healthy and clean . that makes us feel guilty about that -> we feel worse -> we don’t uphold the standards -> repeat .

i showered today for the first time in almost a month . my parents , of all people , said “ finally “ . you know how that made me feel ? like i did something wrong . i didn’t feel proud of myself or reassured , i felt degraded and humiliated , i felt worse .

my parents said that . now imagine tens of hundreds of thousands of strangers a day saying that . STRANGERS . people you’ve never met call you foul and dirty to your face .

reassure people when they take care of themself , because making them feel hurt is going to have the complete opposite effect .

[4ngel-f4ngzz]

why is the human race such a corrupt species. i wish i either

A. did not exist

or

B. was a cat. or any other animal. like any other one

[nathanleemustdie]

cw!! : sh

gen question , whats a place to cvt that your parents and ppl at your job def wont see? like so far theyve seen my arm and wrist cvts and my thigh cvts. i thought about trying my ankles/calves bc i dont wear shorts often and it’s low. ik some ppl cvt their st0mach but that sounds way more d4ngerous to me.

also note that its not my fault if you ignore the content warning and read anyway.

[malkaleh]

I keep trying to write an update and then being embarrassed about it and feeling like I’m trauma dumping on people by updating and I just..I know it’s on me to manage my crap, I know. I am trying (not very well but I’m trying) and it’s just…I don’t know. I don’t even know.

[ashen-phoenix]

I'm worried about a lot of things in regards to getting top surgery, I want it, I know it's what's going to be best for me long term. I'm having a lot of thoughts and feelings in regards to my case specifically, but if anyone sees this and has any thoughts, please share.

I think one issue I am having is that I have spent a lot of time learning to love my body, and I do, but I'm worried that this appreciation may be part of what's holding me back, maybe disguising itself as comfort in fleeting moments

I have always struggled with hoarding, I wasn't allowed to have things at one parents house and then was mostly unregulated at the others. I'm finally decluttering, getting rid of things from years and years ago that I don't need, and it's been really hard, but I felt so much better being free of those things months later. I'm worried that my compulsion(?) to keep my breasts may be related to my history with hoarding. When I think about getting top surgery, I often think about how freeing it will be and how much better my life could be, but I also get the same sort of gut wrenching emotional pain as when I was parting with the things I'd hoarded. I'm unsure if this is just some kind of grief?

Is it normal to have an attachment to my breasts and the details of them from learning to love my perceived flaws over time? I worked so hard to love myself and I feel like I'm ruining something I worked so hard for, because what if I get this done and I hate it? I'm never have my body back the way it was, although I know I'm not happy now either

This isn't a high priority for me, but I do wonder about the convenience and security of being able to breast/chest feed if I have children. I don't think I really care about it as a "bonding experience", maybe because I don't really feel connected to that part of me anyway. I'm sure I'm just trying to sabotage myself, but I keep wondering about if I have a baby and there's another formula shortage or something like that, is it selfish to take away that potential safety net for a child I don't/might never have, potentially starving them in this imaginary scenario because I wanted to be comfortable in my body? I know it literally doesn't matter, I know if something happens I'll figure it out.

On a similar note, when I think of breast/chest feeding, I am a bit put off. My body doesn't need to feed a child(who is honestly lucky if it gets made at all). I can hold and feed and bond with a child without making myself suffer, so why do I keep using this as an excuse

I'm worried my husband may not be attracted to me afterwards, he really likes my chest as it is now and was very shocked and seemed uncomfortable when I told him I was considering it and looking for therapists/hrt options/surgeons. He doesn't like hearing about medical procedures, and I think my other (much smaller) surgical scars kind of ick him out (there's more to it, he doesn't say anything bad about them, it's just that thinking about surgery/human insides at all really bothers him)

I'm so afraid my dad is going to see a bill to his insurance for a gender therapist or my top surgery consult and just pull the insurance early. As it is I only have until mid September before my insurance runs out completely. I'm worried my timeline may be impossible, that I've waited so long and one sabotaged myself.

I'm really hoping they'll let me cremate the bits they take off, it's really important to me that I have all my parts, whether they're inside/attached to me or not.

I'm worried about how my body will recover, it generally heals very slowly, I'm so afraid of the surgery itself, and being put under anesthesia, I've never had a surgery this big before and I'm honestly so afraid it might be my last decision, but I'm also afraid that all my fonts not are just cold feet. I got cold feet before my wedding, I still think I should have stood by my decision and waited another year, I think if I had been able to give the time to myself this last year that I had previously given, I would have sorted my gender issues out a lot sooner.

Any advice or support is highly appreciated

[tcock-of-the-walk]

I kinda dig that even though there haven't been massively noticeable changes to my appearance; getting on t has basically nuked a fair bit of my dysphoria.

I just cannot give that second fuck about it now. I left the house without my binder on today because of some Scary Medical Bullshit, went into the doctors office and stopped into a couple stores on the way home.

A year ago just thinking of that would make me want to wretch and I wouldn't be able to leave the house even With my binder because the damage would already be done. I would be crumpled on the floor half dressed and sobbing trying to cancel appointments because I just couldn't do it.

But now it's like. Who the fuck even cares. I feel great, I don't think I've been this genuinely happy and comfortable in my body since I hit puberty.

I'm 4 months in, I'm a little hairier, I think some fat moved around in a handful of places. I had hoped my face would look leaner, but so far it's looking more square and it's honestly still pretty great. I never liked my smile before, I still feel like it photographs kinda rough, but I like seeing it any other time now.

Even with my body physically falling apart around me due to my medical conditions, my dysphoria and depression have significantly lessened and I kinda feel like a person, which is super fucking new.

My voice is so wonky rn but I love it so much more. I never realized how much I cringed at the sound of my own voice and how much of my energy and brain power went into taking like shit about it. I sounded nice before, but even when I thought my voice was pretty it made me feel sick. Right now it's crackly as all hell, sometimes if I've been singing in the car my throat gets rough and I sound like a heavy smoker, I can't carry a tune to save my life at the moment, but I'm so fucking happy, and it feels so much better. Love hearing it in the morning too, like who the hell is this man? What is he doing in my throat? I honestly don't care, he can stay if he wants, but the fucker always dips after I take my pills

I keep thinking about that post that's like "don't kys if you haven't tried adderal or hrt or killing your dad". And like. My hrt is making me feel pretty great, I think adderal might improve my situation, I'm pretty sure somebody already killed my dad and replaced him with some kind of Tolerant Alien.

Like so far so good. I think everybody should try this. Enjoying Life (even just sometimes) Really Kicks Ass. Even if you don't get exactly what you're hoping for from it, you might still feel a hell of a lot better.

[ashen-phoenix]

I'm so tired of fighting. Nothing I do seems to help. I have no control over my own life. I'm falling apart at the seams but I can't stop because if I do no one will be taken care of. I can't work. My health just gets worse everyday. My immediate family is trying but I don't think they understand. I can't stand up without my heart trying to explode, gods forbid I have to do anything while I'm standing.

I'm losing people I never thought I would, I'm confused and scared and no one is talking to each other and I hate it. I have been hurt by so many people in so many ways, I really trusted this person not to hurt me too and I was so sure the most painful they could do would be to die, I don't want that, I want them to be okay, but this hurts so fucking bad and I don't know what to do.

I have to stay here. My husband and my animals need me here. My family needs me here. I tear myself apart for these people and they have no idea my biggest sacrifice is staying here and suffering so I don't hurt them too. They don't deserve that. I don't deserve this. I deserve to rest. I deserved a fucking chance at life but my dad thought cheating on my mom, abandoning our family, then only coming back to traumatize me so badly that I've been chronically ill and in pain since I was 8 and I've never been a complete person. I will always be in pain. I will probably never know who I am because there's never been enough of me there to know.

[katarandaa]

The Augmentor - part 1

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Pairing: F! reader x Sevika

Set in season 1 between act 1 & 2.

Augmentor: Someone who specializes in augmenting the human body with mechanical or Shimmer-enhanced parts.

Summary: You’re a well-known augmentor in Zaun who - through your sibling Ran - take on a special commission to make Sevika a mechanical prosthetic after her accident.

CW: alcohol use, swearing, smoking.

Word count: 4.2k

AN: this is my first Arcane fic! It's a bit long, but I'm FINALLY happy with it after working on it slowly for WEEKS. This is basically just my MDD universe lol. (There will probably be a part 2). Hope you enjoy ~

PART 2 (coming)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The music from your speakers was blasting in your workshop, you were bopping your head to the beat while working on a rusty prosthetic leg a customer had dropped off for you to fix. Smoke filled your nostrils as the cigarette you put out in your ashtray didn’t completely extinguish. You didn’t hear the elevator doors open and someone entering your workshop until the volume of your music dropped. You quickly turned around to face the elevator to see Ran through your goggles standing by the speaker.

“Ran!” You propped the goggles you were wearing onto your head and smiled at seeing your sibling dropping by for a surprise visit. “Didn’t expect to see you in here today. Your hand need a fix?”

“Hey, no, I actually have something to ask of you,” Ran said as they made their way down the steps into your shop. You put your tool down and spun around on your stool to face Ran, inviting them to keep talking.

“So, you need to hear me out on this one, YN - I need you to do a commission, -” Ran said and leaned on one of your workbenches.

“I don't know Ran; you know I don't really do commissions anymore. Just doing repairs is so much better,” you said the second you heard them say commission, turning your attention back to fixing the metal leg laid out on your workbench.

You had stopped accepting commissions after overworking yourself, and now you ran your business only doing repairs and occasionally some modifications for people who already had mechanical prosthetics. Doing commissions wasn’t easy work, it took months of work, long hours, loads of people involved and a lot of planning, so you decided to take a step back and work on a much smaller scale.

Ran walked closer to you. “It’s an important request, and I seriously need you to consider doing this job. I told them about your work. We really think you’re the best augmentor in Zaun for this job.” Ran flexed their prosthetic hand, which you had made for them several years ago. You sighed again and glanced at their hand before continuing your work.

“It’s a request from Silco - Sevika needs a mechanical prosthetic,” your heart jumped at the sound of her name. “I know you heard of her accident. They know of your previous work, and they want you to do it; they specifically requested you. The pay is really good, it’s from Silco’s pockets, so you’ll be compensated for your time and hassle, and then some.” Ran really tried to sell you this gig, and you could feel the desperation in their voice. “And I know you have a thing for Sevika, you know-”

“I do not!” you interrupted Ran and snapped your head in their direction. “What makes you say that?!”

 “YN, she’s totally your type, and I’ve noticed the way you look at her and act whenever she’s nearby - you get all stiff and nervous.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. “Is it that obvious?” You almost whispered.

“To me it is,” Ran smirked.

You had met Sevika several times at The Last Drop whenever you were out drinking with Ran or your friends. You had never really spoken, but you knew that she knew who you were; all the shared glances, the drinks sent to your table, thanking her by raising your glass in her direction, your blushing and fiddling. You had always been too nervous to approach her; she seemed to distant, and so unattainable.

“Fuck,” you muttered and couldn’t help but crack a smile. “ I don't know. It’s always too much work doing commissions - the clients always have way too high expectations, they never respect the timeframe I give them, they don't pay what they owe. It’s always such a hassle,” you explained, sliding the goggles off your head and running a hand through your hair. “Plus, if it’s for Sevika I’m gonna be all nervous, what if affects my work and I don't deliver her a good product?”

“YN, it’s gonna be fine. Just do what you’re good at. Please just come meet with them, have a chat about your conditions and the pay. I already told them I would talk to you and bring you in for a meeting tonight.”

You tilted your head back and sighed hard, looking over at Ran. “Ok, fine,” you said, and Ran quickly muttered a quiet “yes”.

Ran came running towards you and wrapped their arms around yours. “You’re gonna do great, I know it.” You wrapped your arms around Ran and squeezed before getting up, both of you disengaging from the hug. “And, maybe you and Sevika can get to know each other a little better-”

“Ran!” You interrupted them and hit them playfully on their arm. “Inappropriate! She’s my customer at this point.”

"Alright, fine,” Ran chuckled. “Just, don't promise them anything you can’t deliver. And don’t let them rush you.” Ran squeezed your arm.

“Don't worry, I won’t. Let’s just go.”

-

The atmosphere at The Last Drop was calmer than usual. The last time you visited was to get a few drinks after work with Ran on a busy night. The same night you had seen Sevika sitting at her usual table, cards in hand and a hefty sum of coins in front of her, the other men around the table looking stressed out with their heads in their hands.

Ran leads the two of you through the bar and up the stairs towards Silco’s office. Outside the door were two guards keeping an eye on the people passing by. They saw Ran and opened the door for the two of you, one of them following you inside.

Inside the office, Silco sat at his desk, and Sevika to your left, sitting on the sofa, a cigarette in her mouth and a whiskey bottle and a glass on the table in front of her. You also noticed that her hair was down, and not in her usual half up half down hairdo; it looked good - maybe even cute.

Ran greeted the two with a nod and closed the door behind you.

“Ran, good to see you,” Silco said from the other side of the room, a cloud of smoke swirled around him from his cigar. “This is the augmentor?”

“Yes, sir. This is YN. She’s agreed to come talk over some terms and hear more about the job.” Ran said and sat down at a round table to the right side of the room. You were stood in the middle of the room as you felt Sevika’s eyes on, leaving your stomach in knots.

Silco looked over at you and stood up from his chair behind the desk and walked in front of it. “Alright. What are these… conditions?” He pointed his hand, which had his cigar resting between his fingers, towards you for you to speak.

“Well, first of all, I’m gonna need to know exactly what you’re commissioning,” you said and put your bag on the floor beside the low table to your left. “I’m assuming it’s not just a mechanical prosthetic.” You crossed your arms over your chest and peeked at Sevika, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, to her left arm, or whatever was left of it, which was covered by her cloak.

Silco quickly took the word: “You’re right. It’s going to be used for fighting, as well as just being a prosthetic. Enhance its strength with shimmer, in a way that makes it more responsive and lethal. Find a way for shimmer to be injected into Sevika’s bloodstream in small doses. Obviously it needs to be sturdy and durable; it needs to withstand blows and return them twice as hard. The attachment needs to be secure - no risk of it coming loose, but make sure it's flexible enough for her to move freely. You’re making a weapon, not an ornament. This sound like something you could do?”

You suddenly felt a little nervous having everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for your response. You looked at Silco.

“Of course, not a problem. But if I am to agree to this, I have a couple of terms. I have my own team of doctors and surgeons who are experienced with installing mechanical prosthetics. And if you want the commission to be done faster, I expect a supply of shimmer. I also want one month pay up front before starting the mech.”

Silco was looking at you as you named your terms, almost threatening. “And a few free drinks from your bar would be nice... Sir,” you added. You heard a light chuckle from Sevika at your last comment.

Silco and Sevika exchanged a look before Sevika broke the silence. “Sounds like reasonable terms to me, sir.” She took a swig from her glass, finishing her drink.

“I can get behind your terms. But I need to know an approximate timeframe,” Silco said as he took a puff of his cigar.

“Usually for mechs like this, the planning and design will take about a week, the manufacturing of the arm itself will take anywhere from three to six weeks. Then there’s the installation, recovery and physical adaptation, which I’m guessing in total will be about three weeks at max, but I’m gonna have to hear with my doctors on that one. So, in total, if everything goes to plan, about two months. But with some shimmer, I will be able to work faster and more efficiently, and Sevika’s healing period will also be sped up.”

A silence grew in the room. You could tell Silco was digesting what you just explained. “I imagine that you probably want this to be done much faster, but good work takes time. I promise you that I will make this commission my top priority moving forward. But I’m not going to rush this to a point where I feel like my craftsmanship gets diminished.”

Another silence fell over the room until Silco broke it. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a job, YN. Don’t disappoint me. I will supply you with shimmer. Don't forget that I want it done as soon as possible.” Silco voice way low, almost threatening. He turned his back to you and sat back down behind his desk. “When will you be able to start?”

“I can have you come over to my workshop tomorrow so I can have a proper look at you,” you said and looked at Sevika - she nodded in agreement.

“Great. You two have a plan. You,” Silco said, pointing at the guard standing behind you by the door. “Get the girl her pay.” The guard nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind you.

“I’m gonna need your address,” Sevika leant forward and looked at you with an intimidating look, taking a long puff of her cigarette and exhaling it through her nose. She looked really good. Fuck. You tried to push your thoughts aside; you had to remain professional.

“Oh! Right, of course!” Your nerves had gotten to you. You grabbed your notebook and pencil from your bag on the floor and scribbled down your name and the address, the name of your workshop, as well drawing a quick silly doodle at the end of it out of habit and handed the note to Sevika.

“You enter through what looks like a tinker’s shop, or a salvage shop, you’ll see a sign that says Junk and Joints and loads of scrap in the windows - can’t miss it. Just tell whoever’s in there you’re there for me and they’ll send you down,” you explained. You thought you saw a slight smile tug at Sevika’s lips as she looked at your note.

The door opened and the guard came back with two pouches in his hands. He walked over to Silco who was sitting at his desk reading over some paperwork. Silco looked at the pouches, squinted and waved his hand before looking back down at his papers. The guard walked over to you and dropped the two heavy pouches on the table in front of you. “Your pay.” The guard said and exited the room again.

“Ooh, thank you…” you muttered and looked inside them. In one of them was your money. In the other, vials of shimmer, looking to be enough to last you about two weeks. You put them in your bag along with your notebook.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she looked up at you and gave you a slight nod, her face back to being stern with her cigarette hanging from her lips.

Your heart fluttered for a second before speaking. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” Ran came up behind you and put their hand on your shoulder and walked towards the door. You quickly flung the now heavier bag over your shoulder and exited the office with Ran.

As you heard the door shut behind you, Ran turned to you. “You did good. They seemed to like you.”

“Were you concern they wouldn’t?” you said playfully as you walked down the metal staircase.

“No, not really, but they don't fuck around. You would know if they didn’t like you.”

“Shit ok, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that beforehand - I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool.” You walked to the front door before stopping and turning to Ran. “I’m gonna head to the shop and get started on some ideas. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good luck,” Ran gave you a quick hug. “See you!” You waved at Ran and headed out.

-

You were sitting at your workbench doodling in your notebook with a cigarette between your lips - your music was playing from your speaker, but this time it didn’t drown out the sound of the elevator arriving at your floor. You felt your heart race as you saw Sevika stepping into your workshop.

“This a good time?” she asked and looked around.

You shot up from your stool and picked your cigarette from your mouth. “P-perfect time! Please, have a seat in my so called - living room,” you stammered and gestured to the other side of the room; an old sofa and two armchairs, and a small run-down coffee table with a few old mugs, an empty wine bottle, a candle and an ashtray.

Sevika walked over and sat down on the sofa against the wall as you hurried over to your speaker to turn the music down, now barely audible.

“Alright, so, I’m gonna ask some questions and I’m gonna need some measurements after,” you walked over to ash your cigarette in the ashtray and took a seat in one of the armchairs, notebook and a pencil in hand.

“I got the whole ‘mechanical shimmer arm that deals possibly fatal blows’ shtick,” you waved your hands in the air as you spoke, “but do you have any other requirements that I should know of before I start?”

“The most important part is functionality. If it can’t win me a fight, it’s useless,” Sevika lit a cigarette, taking a long drag from it before continuing. “It needs to have some sort of buff to it.”

“Shimmer can help enhance the hits by hydraulic force, and as Silco requested, I’ll integrate a shimmer system for both injection, infusion and storage - so I don't think you can get more fit for fight than that.”

She nodded. “It also needs to be durable – I don't want you skimping out on the materials here,” she said in a demanding tone. “Don't have the time to constantly come in for repairs. I need reliability with this thing.”

You nodded your head and smirked. “Of course, only the best.”

Sevika scoffed and took another drag from her cigarette. “And it can’t be too heavy, I’m gonna be wearing it outside of combat as well. So don't go too crazy with your fancy mats.”

“Sure, no problem,” you spent a few minutes jotting down some more ideas in your notebook.

“I made an exception for you, y’know.” You broke the silence.

“That so? Why?”

You shrugged. “I stopped doing commissions, but Ran practically begged me to take this job. And when I heard it was for you, the decision was kind of a no-brainer – it seemed important, so I wanted to help.”

Sevika scoffed, smoke from her cigarette exiting her nostrils. “You and Ran close?”

“You could say that,” you smiled and kept your eyes on your notes. “Alright, if that’s all, I wanna get some measurements of you while you’re here,” you said as you stood up and walked over to your workbench to get some tools, as well as a whiskey bottle you spotted on your shelf.

“You want a drink?” you asked and held up the bottle.

“Sure.” She fumbled with the buckle of her cloak for a few seconds before getting it, she swiftly slid it off and left it on the sofa arm. Under her cloak she was wearing a tank top, revealing her broad shoulders.

You grabbed two clean cups from your shelf. “It’s nothing fancy, just some stuff one of my customers brings along whenever she visits for repairs,” you explained as you walked over to the sofa where Sevika was sitting and put the cups and the bottle on the table. You nervously sat down on her left side and poured the two of you a drink, Sevika immediately finishing hers.

Sevika shrugged. “Not bad. I’ve had worse.”

You took a sip of your drink before turning towards Sevika to finally have a look at her.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen an amputee; you had seen several people having lost anything from legs and arms, to hands, feet, fingers, even noses. Prosthetics was your most common request when you took commissions, and you keep repairing all sorts of prosthetics. But Sevika’s amputee scar looked different. The scar had healed nicely and it looked fine - besides the blue lines going from her healed wound up her shoulder and neck to her cheek, and over her chest, her tank top hiding the full extent of it. They looked like scars, and they almost had a blue shine to them. It kind of looked like she had been struck by lightning. You had never seen anything like it; it looked cool, but you would never dare tell her that.

Sevika leant forward refilling her cup with whiskey as you gently touched her shoulder, she briefly flinched at your touch and gave you a nasty side eye, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m gonna have to touch you, y’know,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Sevika scoffed and picked up her cup, bringing it to her lips. “As you please,” she muttered and glanced at you. You felt your cheeks go warm at her comment.

Her shoulder was stiff, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of the amount of muscles this woman had, or her being uncomfortable because she was showing you something vulnerable - or maybe a mix of the two. She probably wore the cloak for a reason.

You got on with the prep work, pulling out your measuring tool to measure her shoulder, jotting down the numbers as well as thoughts and ideas in your notebook, even things you might not even need, just to be sure.

“Could you stand up for me?” you asked and stood up, holding out your measuring tool.

Sevika looked up at you and hesitated for a moment before ashing her cigarette in the ashtray on the table and getting up. You almost gasped at her big frame and height as she stood up in front of you, she glanced down at you, waiting for you to do your thing.

Sevika kept her eyes on you with a stern look as you stepped onto the table to get better access.

“Hold out your arm for me?” you asked quietly. She obeyed, and you measured the length of her arm, as well as the width, quietly muttering the numbers so you would remember.

“How close?” Sevika broke the silence.

“What?”

“You and Ran.”

You chuckled at the fact that Sevika had been thinking about your earlier mention of the two of you being close. “Oh, we grew up together – we’re siblings. Their parents took me in when I was a kid.”

You wrapped the measuring tool around her neck and put your hand behind her to grab onto the tool, looking at the measurement.

“People often think we’re a couple. We don’t quite look alike, but if you know we’re siblings you can tell how our demeanors are similar. And we have the same laugh.”

Standing this close you could smell her; she smelled woody, like cigarettes and whiskey. So hot. You gave her a quick glance and saw that she was looking directly into your eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips.

You snapped out of the moment and stepped down from the table, grabbed your notebook from the table and wrote down the measurements.

You heard a sigh from Sevika as she sat back down. “What the hell are all these measurements for anyway? Aren’t you just making me an arm?” Sevika asked and grabbed her drink.

“A lot of these are just-in-case-numbers; I don't wanna be running around Zaun trying to find you in case I missed a measurement.” You sat back down and kept your notebook in your lap.

“You don't?” Sevika smirked and took another sip of her drink.

You could feel your cheeks get hot again. “Not really, no,” you chuckled. “But if you’re not running around doing Silco’s dirty work, you’ll probably be at The Last Drop.”

“You might be right about that.”

“But – to answer your question, there are a lot of things that go into making a prosthetic arm. I want to get the size of the mech right; don't want it to be loads smaller or larger than your other arm. And I’m gonna be making you a harness.” You took a swig from your drink.

“What am I gonna be needing a harness for?” Sevika asked, her tone was as sharp as usual.

“When you get your arm surgically attached, you’re gonna have to keep it in a harness for a few weeks while it heals. And the weight and feel of the arm is also gonna take some time to get used to - don't wanna fuck up your shoulder. It’s just for the first few weeks,” you explained, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “I don't doubt your strength, but it will get tiring, no matter your physique,” you pointed towards her with your pencil. “Especially if you’re gonna be fighting with this thing.”

“Guess you have a point,” Sevika muttered. “But I can’t be completely useless for too long. I have shit to do - business to deal with.”

“I know you do, but you have to take the healing period seriously. If it doesn’t heal right you’re just gonna make this take even longer.” Your tone was strict.

Sevika just scoffed and took a swig from her cup. Her hand was so big compared to the cup, her fingers to long and her fingernails pristine, which was kind of surprising. You sat there observing her for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance.

“I-uh, have everything I need from you, at least for now,” you put your notebook on the table. “I want you to come back when the first part of the prototype is done so I can make sure it’s a good fit for your shoulder before we commit to anything. Then you’ll also be able to have a look at the blueprints - see if you like the design and stuff.” You leant back into the sofa, putting one leg up, your knee to your chest.

“Sounds good. When do you think that’ll be?” Sevika dragged her cloak back around her shoulders and fumbled with the buckle for a few seconds.

“I think I’m gonna need about a week to design and plan all of it, and about one or two more weeks to make the first parts of the prototype, depending on how long the shimmer Silco supplied will last me.”

“You know how to reach me?” Sevika turned her head to look at you, her face stern, but not intimidating as usual.

“I’ll find a way, but I’m guessing I’ll find you at your usual spot at The Drop.”

“Oh yeah? My usual spot?” Sevika smirked.

“Yeah, I know where you like to sit. Seen you gamble and put some of those crude old men to shame,” you said and chuckled lightly.

“You calling my men crude?”

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled smugly.

“Hm. You might be right,” she grabbed her cup and finished her drink. “Guess I gotta get back to my crude men.” She stood up from the sofa, the weight of her moving shifting you slightly.

“Alright, you do that. I’ll see you in a few weeks!”

“See you.” Sevika gave you a nod and a smirk as she got into the elevator.

[clarityvisions]

My instructor was the one who said I have a temper during our graduation ceremony. While I try to act like I have thick skin, I tend to take things really personally. Her saying that made me feel so disgusted with myself. I don't feel that I belong to that institution anymore. I don't think I'll ever go back. I don't want to be known as 'the one with the temper'.

It especially hurts because my instructor is someone I respect. I opened up to her and told her I was struggling with suicidal thoughts... I thought it would help her understand me better. That behind my anger is deep unwavering depression. I'm drowning, and she's telling me not to be angry?? I know I can't make people like me, so I'll just avoid her. I can't be palatable and perfect for everyone. It's made me start to dislike my instructor.

I hate having a consciousness. I wish I wasn't sentient so I wouldn't have to hear constant criticisms and complaints; all the negative feedback is what stands out in my mind.

Me: She said I have a temper. Him: You don't have a temper, you just know what you want.

It was very reassuring to hear. I don't want people to label me as having a temper just for being upfront about my feelings.

[velocitygirl5]

My experience with MDD

This is a really personal post but I hope it makes others feel more hopeful.

CW: Mentions of Abuse, light discussion of mental health, nothing too heavy is mentioned.

[gleepsglorp]

HAIII IM NEO THIS IS MY INTRO/ᐠ｡‸｡ᐟ\

ive been on 3dtwt/$htwt since 2022 but im migrating here!!!!

sum general info about me

★ im 15, i go by he/him, & i live in australia

★ special interests are house md, breaking bad, southpark, & young sheldon. my other interests are devi mccallion, metal/emo (jack off jill, kittie, patd, ptv, etc) beabadoobee, vocaloid, fnaf, hamilton, chiikawa, roblox, danganronpa, & sylvenian families(i have a huge collection haul some day maybe)

★ some of my hobbies are sewing, cosplaying, crocheting, drawing, rollerskatinfg, collecting things (plushies, vinyls & cds, dolls etc), & going to concerts

stats

★ i have mdd, gad, asd, and recently got diagnosed with bpd. i also have medically recognised ednos (not diagnsoed)

★ ive been to the psych ward once, hospitalised twice & have been in and out of therapy since i was 12

★ deepest cvt has been deep beans/shallow fascia, i got 7 stitches for it

★ im 178cm (5’10), lw 60kg (about bmi 18 i think) hw/cw 90kg (bmi 28).

im gna use this page as my own personal diary so expect a lot of spamming, my user on twt is @illbdasukragain if u wanna fllw me there btw

[ashen-phoenix]

CW: Suicidal ideation

I haven't been awake 10 minuets and I want to fucking kill myself

I just wanted to go back to sleep but we have to have this fucking lamp on "12 hours a day" cause it's on a timer

I try to make the room as dark as possible. I cannot fucking sleep. That's all I fucking want is some sleep. He knows I need the room as dark as possible if it going to sleep. A fucking hour isn't going to matter to the plants. It fucking matters to me because I only sleep like 2-3 hours a night and I finally get the last 3 just after the sun starts to come up.

I don't understand why it's so hard for people to actually care about me and my health and well-being. I know they love me, they care about me, but as soon as my conditions and the way I have to exist doesn't match up with their wants or needs I must not be that sick in that particular way/find actually need that (or that much) accommodation

This has literally been the hardest fucking year of my life, I'm only getting sicker and no one seems to actually care as long as they can go on about their own days.

I can't talk to anyone about this. I just want curl up and die. I've been suicidally depressed for offer a year and none of the medications are working like they're supposed to, we tried upping one that kinda works but it gave me a fucking seizure and stuck me in the hospital for 8 hours.

Nothing is getting better for me. Things were supposed to get better but what hasn't gotten worse has just stagnated.

I want to work. I want to be around people. I want to feel almost like a person. I have very little actual autonomy and it seems like I have less every day. I don't get to make choices anymore. I can't even try to negotiate anything because everyone I try to talk to just gets upset.

The only reason I'm still here is because they need me, and my cat wouldn't understand what happened to me. He's been sick since he was little too, he's my baby, he's my whole world, and he's starting to act like he's feeling good again. I have to be here to rub his little cheeks and kiss him right on his forehead when I pass his favorite spot. I have to be there to ask what he needs when he's beeping and chirping at me. Nobody else is going to know he needs "fridge time" (supervised time when I'm pretending to look for something while he puts his little feet on the bottom ledge and noses at the cold air).

My family needs me too. I'm an important piece. I do more work than I should, but I'm the only one left to do those things, because everyone else is too tired, or just worked 8+ hours, or is going to do all of the clean up later.

I'm just so tired.

[volno-pesh]

cw language and suggestivе content(not really) (just in case, i have no ideas why Tumblr takes is as this but whatever.....) (and yeah messy text and lines, sorry (mdd hits hard this time :( ))

i see them only like this,.

y'all just can't face the facts 😔

[the-fraye-area]

What does it mean when your psychiatrist keeps fighting back tears and apologizing about your situation

(For Context: My mental and physical health have been in decline for a year, we upped my Wellbutrin and I had a seizure so they took it away again. Aside from the seizure I felt pretty good though, so it double sucks that my meds are gone again. I don't think he knows I noticed.)