#he’s independent Tumblr posts

  • sailforvalinor
    16.05.2022 - 3 hours ago

    Hot take: despite his goofiness, pre-timeskip Prompto is definitely more mature than Noctis.

    #lots of tags incoming #noctis stans please don’t come for me I love him too #not a bad thing! it’s just really interesting character-wise #the whole point of ffxv is Noctis maturing so it makes sense #early to mid game Noctis does NOT handle trauma well #like at all #while if you watch prompto he reacts processes it and then moves on #and tries to help the people around him #(granted he wasn’t directly affected in luna’s case like noct was) #the difference is probably mainly in their upbringing #Prompto basically raised himself and is used to disappointment and other crap #plus he knows he’s a niff #noct went through some crappy stuff with his mom dying (although it’s unclear if he remembers this) and his injury #and the pressure of being chosen by the crystal #(which probably explains why he lashes out the way he does) #but he’s never been in a place where he has to process trauma and sadness independently like Prompto has #but of course he learns this over the course of the game and it’s beautiful #ffxv#ffxv noctis#ffxv prompto#ffxv headcanons #final fantasy xv #final fantasy
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  • royalgoldrush
    15.05.2022 - 22 hours ago


    #also call me crazy but also seems like she’s talking my ‘’inconvenient’’ traits and turing them around to be ‘’ideal’’ #but it’s dumb because these traits are terrible plus some of them are out of my control #my independence need for space and the distance? easily solved by being clingy overly needy and codependent even though it’s extremely #unhealthy to both parties and it can be isolating and controlling #my outspoken nature and wanting to fend for the right thing? easily solved by being an apologist and staying silent (even though i don’t #think this one is an act i think she’s genuinely heartless towards the suffering of others as long as she gets a check or clout) #his friends don’t like me? okay fine just be overly‘’innocent’’ and ‘’nice’’ and they’ll approve and they won’t mind if i talk shit about #alyssa and whoever else because they don’t like her anyway and they think i’m the better option in comparison because i’m doing allthis and #and he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it #who cares if it’s not genuine and i’m lying and it’s only hurting the situation in the long run #not to mention draining alyssa and making her feel like she’s not even in control of herself or worthwhile in any way shape or form #even though i’m going out of my way to change myself into the more ‘’convenient’’ alyssa #who cares about how she feels about this blatant bullying and disrespect #this is straight up fan behavior #it’s ODD behavior #i’m weirded out #your fucking strange #literally weird #i’m uncomfortable to say the least
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  • robotnikium
    15.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    eggman is SO BAD at relationships it’s so indescribable

    #the way he sat up in my head @ eggettes thread w npc chara and dillons thread w npc chara is so ... sir #'' eggette? shes independent. shes fine. she doesn't need me. '' #eggette: *has one positive interaction w another eggman* #'' eggette you need to get away from that man immediately eggette i need to protect you eggette you can't trust him eggette no dont look- ''
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  • whisperinghaunts
    14.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    *touches lips to mic* the urge to replay f.nv to see arcade fucking decimate a radscorp for me …

    #he would see them before I even do bc out of a severe phobia I block them out . #him; watching one run at me as I’m disassociating: oh my god #🤎: ​independent together #ghost.txt
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  • p-psqueak
    14.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    (don't mind my ramble, I just need to speak into the void for a minute lol)

    I can't get my hometown out of my head these days for some reason, I keep thinking about it and getting the urge to drive over there for some reason (I couldn't help myself once and it felt really weird but peaceful?) And now I can't stop thinking about taking a friend "friend" :/// and showing him everything and telling him about all the totally inconsequential things I did growing up there and I literally don't know why. Like why is this place haunting me? I don't ever want to live there again, and frankly it's one of the primary locations where my abuse occurred, but sometimes it feels like I left my heart there and I have to go back to get it?? I don't know, that sounds insane. It just literally pops into my head all the time and has for months and when I really stop to think it feels extremely important? Like I *need* to go back? But there's no real reason for that, so I don't know. I'm not a religious or spiritual person at all but it genuinely is starting to feel like something is compelling me to go there and bring someone important with me, idk

    #irl#personal #if i were more open to spirituality id say it feels like the universe is trying to tell me something tbh #or maybe it's a healing from trauma thing #bc i *am* healing slowly so maybe it's just a necessary step in that process? #i didn't even ask him to go w me but he did tell me he would like to make the drive with me when i mentioned that I wanted to go #i didn't say anything about why i wanted to or that it felt important but he still asked to come #wtf is that about honestly? like i thought about taking him there and then he independently offered to go w me? w out prompting? sir??? #he's got me all kinds of fucked up tbh #that's a whole other issue tho lol #anyway if any of y'all are spiritual gorls and have thoughts chime in lol
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  • redrobin-detective
    14.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    Me: Haha! Tim is blasting loud music at Wayne Manor and annoying Bruce in some good, whacky father/son shenanigans!

    Me, reminding myself that this story is mostly a tragedy: The reason Tim got used to listening to music loud is cover up the silence of his own museum-esque home and also no one was around to tell him to turn it down.

    #secret robin au #tim doesnt really know what its like to be around people #Bruce is severely struggling with grief and his own mental illness #but also Tim is so isolated and seperated from the norm and frightfully independent bc he doesnt really know what its like to be taken care
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  • crowshoots
    13.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    will not lie to u all... very terrified abt jesper’s writing in s&b s2 with their track record so far 

    #jesper means so much 2 me and it'd suck if they erase so much of the nuance and complexity of his character #hes a kid with a gambling addiction that hes actively tried to fight against. he hates letting down the people around him. #hes empathetic and fights tooth and nail for his friends and will always be there for them if they need him or his support #he can be a little quick to temper but its generally for a good cause and that temper tends to be on his friends behalf #he still grieves his mom a lot and he had to grow up a long time before he shouldve #he can cook and sew and start a fire and has such a wide arsenal of talents past his gunslinging #he likes his independence and his freedom and hes a good person to have on your side #i love him :( #i am so excited to start my reread hehe
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  • a-deadly-serenade
    13.05.2022 - 2 days ago
    #those independence day ads are insane. i never saw them before #and thought the second one he played with the dad talking about his daughter was a legit us army ad
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  • darkwarfy
    13.05.2022 - 2 days ago

    Derek, are you going to try to get sa Logan back?

    You see Derek looks a bit out of it, like he hasn't been sleeping well, as he looks at you. He tries to hide how much just hearing Logan's name hurts, but you see it in his clenched jaw. "Logan made it clear that he plans on living as his own man now. There's nothing for me to get back."
    He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "And he wouldn't want me to try. It's my fault for not realizing sooner what he really wanted. What I was doing to him by making him live a lie. A constant reminder of the human freedoms that he couldn't enjoy as an android." Guilt clouds his eyes. "I just hope he's living the life he wants now. Even if it's not with me."
    #answered asks #so for a bit of context #Logan knew he couldn't lie to Derek's face #so he lied to one of his coworkers #told them that he was leaving because #he couldn't 'keep living a lie' #that's all Derek has to go on #and he knows how independent Logan is for an android #he just assumes he didn't realize he was hurting him #:') #Service Android Logan AU #my oc tag #logan oc#derek oc#dergan tag#character asks#whump tag
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  • remosdeerica
    13.05.2022 - 3 days ago

    Just contemplating the validity of a Fem!Damian’s name being Damia when I googled the name meaning and came across this beautiful nugget:

    It's perfect.

    #damian wayne #not usually into genderbend but ive been working on various AU damijon fics and one does not simply leave out the Fem! AU #imagine thalia naming her daughter untamed and letting her loose on the world #damia: wreaks havic #thalia: i expect nothing less #oh my gods #can you imagine bruce having all these boys and yes cass is female bit she's pretty independent and a teenager when he finds her #and then he suddenly is handed the absolute bratty PRINCESS that is Damia #and shed just be a tiny baby #and bruce would have NO CLUE what to do #he'd never let her leave his sight #cause of course women's rights but he also had a daughter with one of the most beautiful women on earth #and damia takes after her mama and HO BOI is bruce not letting annyoke near her #batfam#batfamily#bruce wayne#dc #fem!damian
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  • trashcanalienist
    13.05.2022 - 3 days ago

    Rambo III (1988)

    #this is from right after the russian attack on the mujahedeen camp #it's such a very important scene and i love that these movies take time to show the result of destruction and peoples' reactions to it #these aren't just action movies or war movies they are like. films. and i am deeply in love with them. i don't think there's a better way #to talk about these things from this perspective. #but what was i saying - oh yes #he and the mujahedeen and the russian defector yuri were barely able to destroy one helicopter. the other one retreated. #he was caught off guard because for one moment he thought he could think of lighter things. grim reminder that he can't let himself forget #for a second where he is and why. the destruction is made more extreme by just how little these people (soldiers and children and refugees) #have in the first place...clinging on like a desert plant. deep roots and tough exterior make for a strong rebel force... #but no plant can survive firebombing. or napalm for that matter. because that's the other half of this. #again he's reminded of everyone he lost. the last time he worked alongside soldiers he could trust was in vietnam with baker team #and they're all gone now. and these people who have offered to help him do so as much out of good will as out of pure desperation for some #way to survive and come out victorious...not for the sake of victory or the honor of independence but just to prevent the slaughter of #their own people. #i keep getting off track because of the plight of the mujahedeen and the afghan people at this time #john was barely able to prevent the russians from destroying the entire camp right there. he can't save everyone and he knows that. but it #still weighs on him. still haunts him. he knows that he's lucky to get out of combat alive himself. he knows that as important a role skill #plays it is still ultimately all up to luck. #he's tired. it never ends. dragged back into the same situation in another country. he'll risk his life for trautman without question #because it doesn't mean all that much to him. but he won't risk anyone else's if he can help it. #rambo iii (1988) #rambo iii#john rambo#sylvester stallone#rambo #it's a long road #i was so worried i'd run out of tags... #action
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  • anoriginalbrilliantutterance
    12.05.2022 - 3 days ago

    You’re in the second month, says Dr Herborg, my public-healthcare doctor, and he sits down, while the curtain that is always hanging between me and reality turns gray and perforated, like a spider web. A button is missing from the doctor’s shiny white coat, and he has a long black hair sticking out of one of his nostrils. But I don’t want to have this baby, I say emphatically. It was a mistake. I must have put my diaphragm in wrong. He smiles and looks at me unsympathetically. Dear Lord, he says, how many children do you think are born by mistakes? The mothers love them anyway. 

    I ask carefully, Can’t I have it taken out? and immediately the smile disappears from his face like a rubber band gone limp. I do not do that, he says coolly, and you may know that it is illegal. Then I ask him, following Lise’s advice, if he can refer me to someone who does do it. No, he says, that is also illegal. 

    So I go and visit my mother, who I know will understand. She’s sitting in the kitchen playing solitaire. Oh, she says, when she hears my reason for coming, it’s not so hard to knock it out of there. Just go to the pharmacy and buy a bottle of amber oil. Drink it down and that’ll work. It’s worked for me twice, so I know what I’m talking about. I buy the amber oil and I sit across from my mother on the kitchen chair. When I take the top off the bottle, a nauseating smell surrounds me and I run out to the bathroom and throw up. I can’t do it, I say, I can’t get that down. My mother doesn’t have any other ideas, so I walk to the government office where Lise works and I stand outside against the building, waiting for her. I can see the green roof of the stock exchange, glinting weakly in the twilight, and I remember my walks with Piet through the dark city on the way home from the club meetings. Back then I wasn’t pregnant, and if I had stayed with Viggo F. I wouldn’t have become pregnant either. People go by without noticing me. Women walk past alone, or holding their children’s hands. Their faces are relaxed and introspective, and they probably don’t have anything growing inside them that they don’t want. Lise, I exclaim as she walks toward me. He won’t do it. What in the world am I going to do? On the way to the streetcar I tell her about my mother’s horrible amber oil, which is a remedy that Lise has never heard of. I go in with her to pick up Kim from her mother’s. Her mother is an authoritative woman wearing a floor-length dress with a cap on her head because she has a bald spot. I recall that she has given birth to ten children, because Lise’s father always wanted there to be a baby in the cradle, and no one ever cared what she thought about that. When we’re back at Lise’s, she says that I mustn’t panic; there must be a solution. She’s going to ask a young woman at her office who had a pregnancy terminated illegally about a year ago. 

    Unfortunately the woman is sick at the moment, but as soon as she’s back at work, Lise will get the address for me. Dr Leunbach isn’t doing them right now, says Lise, because he was just in jail for it. Maybe Nadja knows of someone, she says, but I don’t remember where she and her sailor live. But I can’t just wait around, I say desperately, I have to do something. I can’t work, and I’ve lost all feelings toward Ebbe and Helle. Lise says that there are probably lots of doctors in the same situation as Leunbach. She says that if I have to do something, I could call them one by one from the phone book, and maybe I’ll get lucky. In the meantime, the woman from the office might get better; so I shouldn’t lose hope. She looks at me solemnly: Do you really think it would be so terrible, she asks, if you had another child? Lise doesn’t understand either. I don’t want anything to happen to me that I don’t want, I say. It’s like getting caught in a trap. And our marriage won’t be able to bear another period of nursing frigidity. I can’t stand it as it is when Ebbe touches me. When I get home, Ebbe tells me that he’s contacted the resistance and he’s going to be trained as a freedom fighter, to prepare for the day when the Germans capitulate and pull out of the country. No one thinks it will happen without a fight. No one thinks they’re going to win either, not after their defeat at Stalingrad. I could not care less, I tell him irritably, if you want to play soldier; I have other things to deal with. Ebbe says he isn’t so crazy about the idea of getting rid of the baby. People can die from that, he says, and in any case he won’t help me find a doctor to do it. I can’t be bothered to talk to him. He doesn’t understand. I don’t know what I ever saw in him. The next day I begin my doctor odyssey. I can only do a couple of visits a day, because they all have consultations at the same times. I sit across from

    these white coats in my worn-out trench coat with my red scarf around my neck. They look at me coldly and in disbelief: Who in the world took it upon themselves to give you my address? Dear woman, there are women who are much worse off than you. You’re married and you only have one child. One of them says, You don’t want me to commit a crime, do you? There’s the door. I return home, miserable and humbled. I pick up Helle from Ebbe’s mother’s house and I nurse her, without paying her any attention. I put her in bed, and then pick her up again. The telephone rings and a voice says, Hello, this is Hjalmar, is Ebbe home? I hand Ebbe the phone, and he answers with one-syllable words. Then he puts on the coat he inherited from his father with the silly strap in the back. He slips on his high rubber boots because it’s raining and a cap that he otherwise never wears, pulled down over his forehead. Under his arm he is holding a briefcase uncomfortably, as if it were filled with dynamite. His face is pale. Do I look suspicious? he says. No, I say flatly, though even a child would think there was something fishy about him from miles away. After he leaves, I scan the telephone book some more, page after page. But finding an abortion doctor this way is like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and I give up after a couple of days. I realize I’m in a race against time, because I know no one will do it if I’m more than three months pregnant. It’s not easy to see Lise in the evening, because she’s with her lawyer after work, and she doesn’t think we should ask Ole, because he has the same attitude as Ebbe. Men seem to be excluded from my world right now. They’re foreign creatures, it’s as if they came from another planet. They’re not in touch with their bodies. They don’t have any tender, soft organs where a blob of slime can attach itself like a tumor and, completely independent of their volition, start living its own

    life. One evening I go to visit Nadja’s father and ask where she and her sailor live. It’s a basement apartment in Østerbro, and I go right over there. They’re sitting eating, and Nadja kindly asks if I will join them. But the smell of food makes me nauseous, and I can hardly eat anything these days. Nadja has had her hair cut, and she’s affected a swinging gait, as if she were on the deck of a ship. The sailor’s name is Einar, and he repeats the same phrases again and again: That’s right, that’s the way to do it, etc. Nadja talks like that too. When she finds out why I came by, she says that she can get me some quinine pills. She used them for a miscarriage herself once. But it could take a couple of days to work, she says. It’s not that easy. But I know where you’re coming from, she says. You hate the thought of it growing eyes and fingers and toes and you can’t do anything about it. You stare at other children and you don’t see any redeeming qualities in them. You can’t think of anything but being alone in your own body again. Slightly relieved, I tell Lise that Nadja has promised to get me some quinine pills, but Lise isn’t so enthusiastic. She says, I’ve heard that some people go blind and deaf from those. I say that I don’t care, as long as I get rid of this. Finally, the young woman we had been waiting for comes back to work at the office, and Lise gets the address of the doctor who helped her. For the first time in a long time I feel happy, walking home with the note in my hand. The man’s name is Lauritzen and he lives on Vesterbro Street. People call him ‘Abortion-Lauritz’, so it must be right. I can look at Helle and Ebbe again. I put Helle on my lap and play with her, and I say to Ebbe: When you go out and meet Hjalmar, don’t wear a cap and you should hold that briefcase as if it had books inside. You are so bad at that. But he calms me down by saying that he’s not going to be taking part in any sabotage operations, so there’s not much chance the Germans will capture him. Tomorrow at this time, I say, I will be happier than I have ever been in my entire life. 

    The next day I put on the lined fustian jacket that I bought from Sinne, because it’s getting cold out. Sinne had it sewn from some old comforters from her family, but when everyone and his brother started wearing fustian jackets, she didn’t want it anymore. I’m also wearing long pants. I bicycle to Vesterbro Street, which is already decorated for Christmas with pine garlands and red ribbons along the sidewalk. I’ve been told not to tell anyone and not to say where I got the address from. There are a lot of people in the waiting room, mostly women. A woman in a fur coat is pacing, wringing her hands. She pats a little girl on the head as if it were something her hands did all on their own, and then she continues pacing. She turns and approaches a young woman and asks, May I please go in before you? I’m in a lot of pain. Okay, says the woman amenably, and when the door to the consultation room opens and someone yells: Next! she runs inside and slams the door shut. A few moments later the woman comes out a changed person. Her eyes are beaming, her cheeks are red, and there is a strange distant smile on her lips. She pulls aside the curtain and looks down at the street. How beautiful, she says, to see all those decorations. I can’t wait until Christmas. Amazed, I watch her go. My respect for the doctor has grown. If he can help such a miserable person in just a couple of minutes, who knows what he could do for me. 

    What seems to be the trouble? the doctor says, looking at me with his tired, friendly eyes. He is an older, gray-haired man with an undefinable, slovenly appearance. There’s a salami sandwich on his desk, with both ends of the bread curled up. I tell him that I’m pregnant but that I don’t want another baby. Well, he says, rubbing his chin, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’m not doing that for the time being, because it’s getting hot around here. My disappointment is so immense, so paralyzing, that I bury my face in my hands and burst out crying. But you’re my last chance, I sob; I’m almost three months pregnant. If you don’t help me, I’ll kill myself. That’s what so many women say, he says quietly, removing his glasses to get a better look at me. Now, he says, you’re Tove Ditlevsen, aren’t you? I admit it, but I don’t see that it makes any difference. I read your last book, he says, it was good. I’m an old Vesterbro boy myself. If you’ll just stop crying, he says very slowly, I might be able to whisper an address to you. I am about to hug him in gratitude when he writes an address down on a slip of paper for me. You can get an appointment with him, he says. All he does is poke a hole in the amniotic sac. If you start to bleed, you have to call me. And if I don’t start bleeding? I ask, anxious that this is going to be more complicated than I thought. That wouldn’t be good, he says, but it usually does. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. When I come home I tell Ebbe about it, and he pleads with me to give up my mission. No, I say vehemently, I would rather die. Ill at ease, he paces the living room, looking at the ceiling as if he could find a convincing argument up there. I call the doctor, who lives in Charlottenlund. Tomorrow six o’clock, he says in a grumpy, toneless voice. Just come right in; the door will be open. Bring three hundred kroner with you. I tell Ebbe not to worry. If anything happens I’ll be at the doctor’s, so he’ll be careful. When it’s all over, I say, things will return to normal, Ebbe. That’s why I need to have this done.

    I take the streetcar to Charlottenlund, because I don’t want to ride my bicycle, not knowing what kind of condition I’ll be in after my appointment. It’s two days before Christmas, and people are loaded down with packages covered in bright wrapping paper. Maybe this will all be over by Christmas Eve, so we can have Christmas at my parents’ house again. I would love that. I’m sitting next to a German soldier. A heavy-set woman with packages has just made a big show of getting up and moving over to the opposite side. I feel bad for the soldier, who probably has a wife and children at home, where he would rather be, instead of traipsing around in a foreign country that his leader decided to invade. Ebbe is sitting at home, more nervous than me. He bought me a flashlight so I can find the address in the dark. We looked in a book to find out what an amniotic sac was. When it breaks, the book said, the water comes out and the birth starts. But there’s supposed to be blood, not water. Neither of us really understands. The doctor greets me in the entry, where a bare lightbulb dangles from a hook in the ceiling. He seems nervous and grouchy. The money, he says flatly, holding out his hand. I give it to him, and he nods toward the examination room. He’s about fifty, small and shriveled, and the corners of his

    mouth droop, as if he has never smiled. Come on up, he says, slapping his hand on the examination table with the hanging straps for patients’ legs. I lie down with an anxious glance at the side table which has on it a row of shiny pointed instruments. Will it hurt? I ask. A bit, he says, only a second. He talks like a telegram, as if he’s trying to limit the use of his vocal cords. I shut my eyes, and a sharp pain darts through my body, but I don’t make a sound. Done, he says. My insides are as quiet as a cathedral; there’s no sign that a deadly instrument has just penetrated the membrane which was supposed to protect what wants to live against my will. When I get home Ebbe is sitting there, feeding Helle. He’s pale and nervous. I tell him what happened. You shouldn’t have done that, he says repeatedly. You’re putting your life in danger and that’s wrong. We lie awake most of the night. There’s no sign of blood or water, no fever, and no one has told me what to expect. Then the air-raid siren sounds. We carry Helle down to the cellar in her bed; this never wakes her up. People are sitting there, half asleep. I talk to the woman who lives downstairs; she’s stuffing the mouth of her sleepy, cranky child with cookies. She’s young, with a weak, immature face. Maybe she tried to have an abortion too, with that child, or a later one. Maybe lots of women have done what I’m doing now, but no one talks about it. I haven’t even told Ebbe the name of the doctor in Charlottenlund, because I don’t want him to get in trouble if something happens to me. He helped me as my last resort, and I feel a solidarity with him, even though he was an unpleasant man.

    I get cold sitting down here, and I button my fustian jacket up to my neck. I’m so cold my teeth start chattering. I think I might have a fever, I say to Ebbe. The air-raid siren stops, and we go back up to the apartment. I take my temperature, which reads 40°C. Ebbe is beside himself. Call the doctor, he says vehemently. You have to go to the hospital right away. The fever makes me feel like I’m tipsy. Not now, I laugh, it’s the middle of the night. Then his wife and children will find out. The last thing I see before falling asleep is Ebbe pacing the floor, furiously running his fingers through his hair. I can’t believe this, he mumbles in despair, I can’t believe this. Meanwhile I’m thinking: your buddy in the resistance, Hjalmar, he puts your life in danger too, you know. Early the next morning I call Dr Lauritzen to tell him my fever is 40.5°, but there’s no blood or water. It’ll come, he promises. Go to the clinic right away; I’ll call and tell them you’re on your way. But not a word to the nurses, okay? You’re pregnant, you have a fever, that’s all. And don’t be scared. It’ll all work out. It’s a nice clinic on Christian IX Gade. The head nurse receives me – a nice, motherly older woman. We might not be able to save the baby, she says, but we’ll do what we can. Her words make me wonder, and when I’m shown to a double room, I prop myself up on my elbow and look at the woman in the other bed, who is five or six years older than me and has a sweet, trusting face above the white shirt she’s wearing. Her name is Tutti, and to my surprise, she’s Morten Nielsen’s girlfriend. He’s the father of the baby she was going to have. Tutti’s divorced, an architect, and she has a six-year-old daughter. Within an hour it’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives. A little Christmas tree stands in the middle of our room with tinkling glass decorations and a star on top. It seems ludicrous, given the circumstances. 

    When I was a child, I say to Tutti in my fevered reverie, I thought that stars really had five points on them. The light goes on, and a nurse arrives with two trays for us. I still can’t take the sight or smell of food, so I don’t touch it. The nurse asks, are you bleeding? No, I say. Then she leaves a pail and some pads, in case it starts during the night. Dear God, I think in desperation, just let me bleed one drop of blood. After they take away the trays, Ebbe arrives, and then Morten. Hi there, he says, surprised. What are you doing here? Then he sits down on Tutti’s bed and they disappear, whispering and embracing. Ebbe has brought me twenty quinine pills which he got from Nadja. Only take them if you have to, he says. After he leaves, I tell Tutti that Nadja once forced a miscarriage by taking quinine. She doesn’t see any reason not to take them, so I do it. The night nurse comes in, turns off the ceiling light and turns on the nightlight. Its blue glow illuminates the room with an unreal, ghostly hue. I can’t fall asleep, but when I say something to Tutti, I’m unable to hear my own voice. Tutti, I yell, I’m deaf! I can see Tutti moving her lips, but I can’t hear anything. Say it louder, I tell her. Then she shouts, You don’t have to yell; I’m not deaf. It’s those pills, but I think it’s just temporary. There’s whooshing in my ears, and behind the whoosh there is a cottony, charged silence. Maybe I’ve become permanently deaf, for no reason, because there’s still no blood. Tutti gets out of bed and walks over to me and shouts in my ear, They just want to see blood. So I’ll give you my used pads, and you just show it to them tomorrow morning. Then they’ll scrape you out. Talk louder, I say, and finally I’m able to understand what she said. During the night she walks over and places her used pads in my pail. When she passes the Christmas tree, the glass decorations clink together and I know they’re tinkling, but I can’t hear them. 

    I think about Ebbe and Morten and their desolate expressions amid this woman’s world of blood, nausea and fever. And I think of my childhood Christmases, when we walked around the tree singing: Out of the depths we come – instead of singing psalms. I think about my mother. She has no idea I’m lying here, because she can never keep a secret. I also think about my father who has always been hard of hearing, because it runs in his family. Deaf people must live stifled, isolated lives. I might need a hearing aid. But my deafness doesn’t mean much next to Tutti’s act of mercy. She shouts in my ear, They know full well what’s going on here. They just have to keep up appearances. 

    Towards morning I fall asleep, exhausted, until the nurse comes in and wakes us. My oh my, you’ve been bleeding a lot, she says with fake worry, looking down into the pail with the night’s harvest. I’m afraid we won’t be able to save the baby. I’ll call the doctor right away. To my relief, I realize that my hearing has come back. Are you sad? asks the nurse. A little, I lie, trying to put on a downcast face. In the afternoon the doctor comes in, and I’m wheeled to the operating room. Don’t feel so bad, he says cheerfully. At least you have one child already. Then they place a mask over my face and the world fills with the smell of ether. When I wake up, I’m lying in bed with a clean, white shirt on. Tutti smiles over at me. Well, she says, are you happy now? Yes, I say. I don’t know what I would have done without you. She doesn’t know either, and she says that it’s all behind us now. She says Morten wants to marry her. She’s madly in love with him and she adores his poetry, which has just been published and has been praised everywhere in the press. Besides you, she says tactfully, he’s the most talented young person today. I think so too, but I’ve never been close to him. Ebbe arrives with flowers like I’ve just

    given birth, and he’s so happy, because now it’s over. We have to be more careful in the future, he says. I go and ask Dr Lauritzen to show me how to put my diaphragm in correctly. Still I harbor a strong resistance to that piece of hardware, a resistance that will remain with me my whole life. My temperature drops quickly to normal, and I’m ravenously hungry now that my nausea has disappeared, as if by a stroke of magic. I miss Helle’s little pudgy body with the dimples on her knees. When Ebbe brings her in to me, I think with horror, what if it were her that we had just denied access to life? I bring her up into the bed with me and play with her. She is more dear to me than ever. In the evening the doctor comes into our room without his coat on, holding two children by the hand. They are ten or twelve years old. Merry Christmas, he says jovially, and squeezes our hands. The children shake hands with us too, and when they’re gone, Tutti says: He’s so nice. We should be thankful that someone dares to do this. On Christmas Eve I wake up, take out a pencil and paper from my bag and write a poem in the weak glow of the nightlight: You who sought shelter with one weak and afraid, For you I hum a lullaby between the night and day.

    Ditlevsen, Tove. The Copenhagen Trilogy. Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition. 

    #the copenhagen trilogy #tove ditlevsen #roe versus wade #abortion #stories of abortion #feminism #People walk past on the sidewalk. Their faces are relaxed. They probably don’t have anything growing inside them that they don’t want. #Men don’t have organs where a blob of slime can attach itself like a tumor and completely independent of their volition start living its own #You hate the thought of it growing eyes and fingers and toes and you can’t do anything. You dream of being alone in your own body again. #he pleads with me to give up my mission. No I say vehemently I would rather die. #If you don’t help me I’ll kill myself. That’s what so many women say he says quietly
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  • montliyets
    10.05.2022 - 5 days ago

    my staunch respect for the elderly vs my overwhelming urge to correct false information

    #no offense great grandma but your great grandson is two and a half he doesn’t need a sippy cup and he can get in his booster by himself !! #kids at this age start getting their independence and he in particular is already super independent and has been for months #she keeps correcting me essentially trying to get me to baby him and i’m so 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂 #ma’am i have cared for this child every single day for two years. one of those years in HIS HOME !! i think i know what he’s capable of :-) #not to mention i’ve only been in the field of childcare for five years lol it’s cool i’m fine i’m respectful #who knows this child more: me (person who has cared for him since six months) or great grandma (person who sees him once a month) #anyways.txt
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  • motheyes
    09.05.2022 - 6 days ago

    you’d think it would be understood given everything that’s happened to me in the past 5 years but nooo i’m just over reacting. i’m just being sensitive. i’m just making things hard for no reason

    #literally i wanna scream about it sometimes #i wanna just freak out #doesn’t even matter cuz even if i did #it wouldn’t change anything #they wouldn’t listen m #because i’ve done that before #i’ve freaked out on ur ex’s before #crying and yelling and begging #and you treated me like i was unwell #like you just thought this was a rough spot for ne #and then he turned out to be a fucking manipulating asshole #why didn’t you listen to me #why didn’t you care #why havnet you fucking apologized i lost my fucking living space #i lost my security i lost my independence #i had to fuckibg move back in with you #and for what. for what #i worked a hell job for 8 months #i went through literally some of the worst times of my life #and you don’t care. you don’t care that it was because you wouldn’t listen #it’s ok though. it’s ok because i forgive you
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  • theinternetisfulloftrash
    09.05.2022 - 6 days ago

    Go to sleep, Jesúcristo.

    I wenttttttttttt

    Relaxxxxxx..... ;)

    independent-thought-alarm is reprimanding me for being up and shitposting at 3:30 in the morning. Listen. I'm a degenerate. We've established this. If that ain't degenerate behaviour, I don't know what is.
    #actin' like he doesn't know I'm an irresponsible monster #especially when it comes to my sleep schedule #ask#independent-thought-alarm #knows full WELL!
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  • minamotosousuke
    09.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    Okay so you can get a license to drive a motorcycle 2 years before one to drive a car…

    #in Japan if that wasn’t clear #kou is totally getting a motorcycle #where teru wants to stick to family and finds comfort in them #kou thinks they’re stifling and wants to be independent from them #anyways I think kou gives off total bad boy vibes until he gets talking #like if Mitsuba and kou reconnected at say 16 or 17 #omg I’m just thinking about Mitsuba inviting kou for dinner and Mitsuba’s mom hearing a motorcycle pull up outside #and low and behold is this tall lanky bad boy in a leather jacke t #whose super polite #and as he gets talking Mitsuba’s mom is like omg this boy is a big sweetheart
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  • exo-s-victory-lap
    09.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    There was something very close to accusational about the way porsches flashbacks to the dubcon scene in ep 4 were reedited to show his perspective. Accusational towards Kinn for seeing it as something positive yeah, but more than that I think it was very pointed at the sheer percentage of the audience who watched that scene and defended as something other than the violation porsche clearly sees it as.

    #like porsche is very much struggling with whether or not he thinks it was rape #and it was clearly dubcon at BEST #so yeah it was shot as exciting cause it was from kinns perspective #but his perspective literally does not matter here like he does not get to say if it was consensual or not #porsche gets to make that call #and ngl the way a lot of people are ignoring that was weird!!! #so rediting that scene to make it gross and uncomfortable felt pointed at the audience because it's not enjoyable to watch that way #like it shouldn't have been in the first place #YOU shpuld have morals independent of the show YOU should be able to look past framing to see what's happening #oh#tw sa#kp #like 'oh well it was supposed to be hot thats why they shot it that way!' #who cares how they shot it a man got roofied and then his boss slept with him instead of leaving him alone #like you know what that is #you KNOW what that's called you shouldn't need it framed #porsches pov is asking you why you enjoyed it in the first place and why you took kinns side first
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  • fullpogue
    08.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    Sooooooo who’s going to give my new darling Jack (R.ay N.icholson) a plot where he plans to seduce a cop’s daughter as revenge for arresting him???

    #indie smut rp #indie rp#independent rp #&& wanted || plot #&& desires || jack huxley #he's a mechanic who moonlights as a dealer #hence the arrest lmao
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  • octaviusphd
    08.05.2022 - 1 week ago
    nwh headcanonnn: i don’t think replacing the inhibitor chip fully reset the actuators - its function was to prevent the AI from flooding his conscious thought and influencing him, not to fully block the software capabilities that otto presumably wrote in the first place. there needs to be a mutual exchange of information to build the neural network, and to help the arms to “understand” their environment in order to safely interact with it. so, in fixing the chip, otto can still hear the “voices” of the arms, but to a far lesser extent than the pressing, overwhelming influence they had on his mind before. most of the data they gathered post-accident was blocked out for its connection to the subconscious, so there are gaps in their learning that need to be filled with new, healthier responses. they prompt him when actions are not understood, and he answers. they independently explore their environment - looking around, gathering sensory input - when otto is not actively using them. they occasionally bicker when otto’s conscious decisions do not reflect their learned behaviors, but otto ultimately has control. their relationship has achieved symbiosis.
    #subconscious thought is centered in the subcortical region while conscious thought is cerebral #so the inhibition mechanism lies in where the sensors physically interact with the brain #no inhibitor: 'independent' and malevolent because they're learning from huge amounts of negative input along with #otto's subconscious grief and anger uncontrolled emotions etc #and they feed that back to him in the subcortical so it feels overwhelmingly strong and uncontrollable #with inhibitor: they're AI-driven but their actions are a dialogue with the cerebral cortex. otto has conscious communication w them #and can move them fully at his will when he decides to. otherwise they idle in place and fill gaps in their network #to understand their immediate surroundings. otto chiding them like theyre misbehaving is really just a playful take on that #because with the inhibitor they really are a part of him and an extension of his own mind #i could go on about this forever i love breaking down sci-fi science LOL #⁎   HEADCANON
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  • cazzyf1
    08.05.2022 - 1 week ago

    "I can't stop him if you were driving. That's unfair if I would do that. One thing I can tell you Whenever you have any accident again. I sure as hell won't be the butter if you break hands. I'm not going along with this bullshit. You're on your own. I'm not getting involved. Completely withdrawn." - Niki reveals some thing that Marlene said to him about racing.

    #I used an online audio translator for this #so might not be 100% accurate #but gets the point across #I love how independent Marlene is #and how she let Niki do what he wanted though she was worried about him #niki lauda#classic f1#retro f1#vintage f1#f1
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