#the societal need to pass knowledge on to the new generation so that they have an easier time than you did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik (2024)

imparting wisdom

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It's wild to me how some able-bodied people only think of disabled culture as a concept and they haven't ever actually experienced it. To me the biggest tell that somebody has never experienced disabled culture is their lack of knowledge about something I call Societal Manufactured Disability Theory.

This theory posits that an aspect of disability is manufactured by societal norms, stigmas and labeling.

People with disabilities like myself will tell you that people do treat you differently based solely upon the fact that you are disabled. When my hand writing is too messy to read do to Dysgraphia people assume I'm not trying hard enough to be neat, and if I'm lazy enough to slack with hand writing I must always be lazy. When I tell people I have Dyslexia they think I'm less intelligent, unable to read or incapable of understanding the written word. When I tell people I have a connective tissue disorder which is an invisible disability they think I'm a liar, scheming to take resources away from "real disabled people".

The societal norm here in America is to push forward, laziness is not an option we see it repeatedly in the rhetoric surrounding young people. News sources constantly talking about how "no one wants to work these days" or "young people are taking everything for granted".

There is a huge stigma around having Dyslexia that most people don't notice. In American society where we have a 79% literacy rate it is expected that you can read, so when you can't or you have trouble people think you have a lower IQ. Dyslexia can be genetic so I'm actually a fourth generation Dyslexic from my dad's side with all of them men being the ones to pass it down. My dad has always said that my great grandfather had no support for his Dyslexia, nobody cared and in fact the term Dyslexia was only coined in 1887. When my dad went to school they attempted to alleviate some of the symptoms of Dyslexia by making him watch his hands as he crawled on the floor, believing that the root of the problem was in a lack of eye coordination. To this day I and many other Dyslexics will avoid talking about our diagnosis because of the stigma behind it. I have had many experiences in my life where as soon as people learn that I am Dyslexic they assume that I can't spell anything or that they need to read everything to me. That's what stigma does, it makes people hide away just so they can live in peace and be respected.

It is extremely common for people with invisible disabilities to be labeled as liars, this is mostly due to a lack of education and representation. The general public's idea of disability is limited, but the truth is that disability is one of the most dynamic aspects of human beings. Invisible and dynamic disabilities make up the majority of disabilities; in fact, 1 out of every 3 Americans is in fact disabled. When people see me, a young, healthy-looking man, they never think I'm disabled. If I tell them I am, they may think I am lying. People generally do not like liars, and having such a label attached to your name can be detrimental to your social integration.

You can see that none of those setbacks I mentioned are symptoms of my disabilities. The perceived deviance, stigma, and labeling are not things you'll find on a medical report. However, they do harm me socially and potentially medically when it comes to stigma; these things disable me. Thus, part of my struggle as a disabled person is manufactured by society itself, in the norms we hold and the way we treat others.

I have come to that conclusion repeatedly, as have almost every other disabled person. It's a conclusion that is often reached in the community as a whole. However, it is in able-bodied culture where these stigmas, labels, and perceived attacks originate. So, if someone is completely averse to accepting the Societal Manufactured Disability Theory, it suggests that they have probably never fully been a part of any aspect of disability culture.

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a nier reincarnation tierlist, but why make it easy if you can be annoying and write an analysis of every theme in the gacha game nobody cares about

notes

the following contains far too much analysis for my own good

for many of these you need to also at least know their dark stories to make sense of what i'm writing below the cut (but don't worry i haven't read them all either)

i just wanted a picture for my write up and was too lazy to draw 21 characters so don't take the tierlist too seriously

i call it reinkane for short bc that's its japanese hashtag (i know cane and kane are spelled the same in katakana but as a german i'm more comfortable with ks i guess)

also i know it's Gamer blasphemy to praise a gacha game but i think reincarnation is my favorite nier game im sorry okay i know that's a bad thing to admit but i need you to know i have bad taste

on reincarnation's theme

...and write an analysis of every theme in the gacha...

there is only 1 theme. probably more, but you'll see what i mean

it took me an embarrasing amount of time of going "well, but what is this game really about" (you know, since the other niers are about something too) to realize that it is indeed just about reincarnation - it's just thinking about it in a more abstract/straightforward way.

because the thing that tripped me up was that only about 2 and a half stories are actually about what I thought of as reincarnation (death -> next person) so it can't possibly be about that, right? but if we think about reincarnation as an abstract concept of "something is passed on to somebody else next in line" then basically every single one of these character stories is about that in some sort of way - and at the end of the day isn't having children some form of reincarnation? one of those things where i'm like did everyone else already notice this and its just so basic of an observation that nobody talks about it and i don't want to start the conversation in case it makes me look dumb

the core theme reinkane explores isn't just that though, it's more specifically the loss of agency through this "reincarnation" - it's about parents making decisions for their children, it's about people who don't get to decide for themselves because others already decided for them and in that the writers repeatedly pull from certain 'sub-themes' aside from familial ties:

royalty (basically a more overt version of loss of agency through birth/familial ties - children of reigning royals are born with certain responsibilities they never asked for simply by being children of their parents)

robots (beings created for a purpose by somebody who decides that purpose for them)

heavily enforced societal rules / decisions (rules you have to obey just by being born without any choice not to. it's more of a broader reincarnation in that entire generations make decisions that generations after suffer from instead of 1 person to 1 person)

war (similar to the above, war is basically about somebody forcing their decisions onto somebody else and especially the people who don't even have a say in it have to suffer for it)

and for the most part all of the stories (with a few exceptions) are to some degree about one or more of these. so let's get into some of my favorites:

sarafa

my love. it took a while for me to warm up to her, but once i put it all together i'm just... *chef's kiss* i hope they don't introduce new characters (aside from major ones like mama's true form or something) because she's the perfect book end character to end on.

not only is she a royal character like the very first character (rion), she's also one of the few characters to actually interpret this sort of reincarnation as a good thing!

it's very found family in that the "royal reincarnation" is still very very bad and even worse than rion's for example, but the reincarnation as part of this line of princesses sent to the slaughter also harbors a good thing, since only through their inter-generational sharing of knowledge that is built on all of the princesses that came before sarafa she can finally break the cycle, even if it ends up revealing something far worse.

saryu, hina & yuzuki

if you haven't noticed it yet, the current era of nier (starting after automata) is the "we're ruining our children" era. yorha:dark apocalypse, reinkane, all of voice of cards and even yoko taro's amazarashi (nier anime ed) music video is about it. like literally all of it.

anyways: all three of them (for saryu it's her ex story) are about how their parent's decisions influence their children's lives to a massive degree, in saryu's case it's the absence of her mother that shapes her entire life and with hina & yuzuki it's obvious i think.

hina & yuzuki get bonus points for being the most straightforward "this is how this theme looks in real life" about the theme even if them murdering their parents is obviously heightened for dramatic effect

also i have nothing to say about the hamelin lore except yuzuki turning into a red eye makes him canonically an incel and i won't explain why

priyet

another one where it took me a while to really get what is going on. at first i wasn't too keen on her story since i read her being a monster that wants to hide herself as one of those queer-werewolf allegories that I personally am just not really a fan of. but then i read her hidden stories (because yes. the first four hidden stories for every character are "lore" relevant. somebody is having an aneurysm as we speak foaming at the mouth over "kingdom hearts bullsh*t") and i like that a lot more even if it's probably more problematic?

basically since most people probably didn't read them bc unlocking them is a bother (if only there was a website for that) the guy who is friends with her and saryu (the one that priyet murders at the end of saryu's story) has a crush on priyet (literal love triangle!!!) and through misunderstandings and bad communication he keeps escalating their relationship until

His whisper played in my earsover and over and over and—"No! I hate this! I HATE it!"Every place he touched me wascovered in filth. Every glancecaused my hair to stand on end."I'm gross! I'm dirty!I'm disgusting! I hate it,I hate it, I hate it,I'm going to be sick!"I took a pair of scissors andjammed them into my bed overand over. By the end of it,my room was a disaster and mythroat raw from screaming,but I still felt no better."Why...?"If things went bad between thetwo of us, what would happento me and her? Oh, but Iknew. She'd take his side—of course she would. And thenwe wouldn't be friends anymore.

her hidden story is a surprisingly nuanced look into what makes consent (or rather what doesnt) that i very much appreciate especially coming from japanese writers who are kind of universally handwaved as 'well it's a different culture, they're living behind the moon'

of course that boy is just a child and made a mistake, but society taught him - intentionally or not - to assume that her being nice (because they're friends) must mean she's fair game and her saying no is just her "not being confident" so he just keeps going and it results in her literally becoming a monster that needs to hide her sullied body beneath a table cloth.

and there's also something in there where this interacts so beautifully with her being gay. like it doesn't even occur to the boy that priyet might not even be into boys in general and now everything has gotten so much more complicated for her at a time in her life where everything is already complicated enough as it is, only because a guy decided he likes her and gave her no real choice about it - and all of that because society thought it was a good idea to demand eternal romance bonding at 14 because without that the boy wouldn't feel the pressure to establish a relationship in the first place (there it is, we took the long way back around to the theme of societal rule enforcement)

(side note: i fully understand if some people like this less than queer werewolves especially since it's a really sensitive topic. i personally think it's fine - since all of this game is about the fact that we learn/"reincarnate with" bad things from our predecessors i read priyet's story as that, a situation where all of these terrible values come together to utterly f*ck her up - but if it's a no from you i think that's perfectly valid as well.)

also the absolute gall of reinkane to introduce a magic school and make one of the two protags meaningfully gay right when jk pops off

marie & yurie

these two are special because it's just one and zero all over again and i will take any dod3 reference i can get... their chapters are literally called "One Vow" and "Proof of Zero" - and yes that's also a binary code reference but yurie literally doesn't have a right eye how much more overt can it get... well maybe like this:

marie being the "heroic ruler" who wants to save everybody and do right by her people, who sings to spread her magic (of hope), but fails not only because it's not meant to be since the world doesn't allow for happy endings but also at the hands of her ruthless sister... why yes, I also approvingly nod my head at war crimes because they're drakengard references.

the only minus marie gets from me is that all of her concept designs are so much better. but this one looks so similar to hina. i get that her hairstyle looks more like one now but you could at least have given her black hair or something idk

they fit into the general theme that noelle and dimos (and F66) also partially explore, that robots are created with a purpose that benefits us humans - but if these robots are genuinely thinking beings, do we rob them of their agency by pushing our needs onto them? And Yurie only wants Marie's eye because humanity tells her that she "lacks it" - so even when she decides to take it because she knows she lacks something, is that really her agency? Fascinating stuff to think about.

(also the fact that humanity created a robot and took the robot's agency about taking humanities agency)

yudil

he is the bestest boy, he speaks to me as a ffxiv samurai main. i haven't read most his non main stories yet, but i have a feeling it's the one nier story that is at least in part about capitalism??

also it's nice to see that this game at least tries to not only have pale skinned characters. it's probably not a particularly noteworthy depiction of an arabian nights sort of setting, but i guess we have to set the bar low since a certain other insanely lucrative gacha game is planning to introduce a literal prison wasteland as the country all black people come from and a certain other recently released game that adds 2 more lore units to 14 can somehow literally be about the discrimination of minorities and slavery and still decide that the progressive option was to delete all black people from existence (honestly the writers/whoever else is to blame for that should be ashamed. can't call that anything but ludicrously tone-deaf and embarrassing.)

F66x

I'll be real. I appreciate F66x being here. I think it's really cool they commit to her bald head in all of her costumes (despite me loving her dark story 4 hairstyle...) And you can just tell she has it going on. Like Super Mario RPG levels of "I never really played this but I just know this is special and deserves all the praise it gets." But I just. Don't really care that much for some reason??

The thing is I really should!! She has the flowers, she has weird religious sh*t going on, all of the signs of some relation to the groteskerie queen - but I guess when her and 063y's chapters first came out the connection to dod3 was too obvious, which made it unappealing to me? idk it felt like a red herring (and it honestly still does) so i never really connected to it all that much

argo, 063y and gayle

the dads + gayle are interesting because they actually reverse our viewpoint on reincarnation. most of the other stories are from the reincarnated person's view, but these stories are about the characters that were reincarnated from and how that f*cks them over too.

well, okay, argo not really, argo's story isn't about him it's about his daughter, which means technically it is exactly like the other ones, but i include him because the first part still applies (which is btw why he scores relatively high on my list, once you realize his story isn't about him i think that makes it more interesting. does it replicate the heightened value fathers get ascribed to in family dynamics or does it comment on it...?)

but 063y and Gayle also lose their agency because something happens to the person that reincarnated from them. Every version of 063y fights the flowers to protect his son - because that's what fathers do. But is that really agency? Is there really a choice in that? Same thing with Gayle even if it's about her sister instead.

of course that's also where the war theme comes in since it made this lack of choice even happen in the first place - but it's easy to imagine that without a sibling/child (/parent in the case of lars, who is very similar in that regard but from the other side of reincarnation) all of these people could have more easily chosen different and try and get away for example.

kaine's grandma

and this is where i announce that we have a special guest tonight, it's the one and only Kali from NieR Replicant and she's joining the ring with a steel chair!!!

no really though

when i first saw that scene at the end of sun/moon in the trailer for the final episode (the one where hina/yuzuki are trapped in the lunar tear meadow with kaine's shack) i sighed. is this necessary? literal reference for references sake. where does this come from. you just took that one scene people know and stuffed it in here. could you not come up with anything else that you could have referenced? like come on we're all only waiting for accord here.

turns out i was wrong, it's not just a random reference. it perfectly fits the theme :) with good-enough dreaming energy you too can explain away any plot inconsistencies

it took me until i did the scene again to get to the secret ending, but i realized that kaine's relationship to her grandma is one of those "reincarnations" that actually works. and while she does fall into a "revenge for dead relative" thing similar to gayle and lars, the things she learned from kali are the things that end up protecting her. without kali kaine wouldn't have become the person that would end up helping nier and emil.

it's a reincarnation story that never put kaine into a place where simply because she was kali's grand-daughter she was in a worse place than before - and unlike lars or gayle she can decide to go after hook on her own terms because hook isn't a literal war that she doesn't have any meaningful impact on. (i'm losing the thread here i think but i hope you get what i'm talking about)

(and yes i do think that was the point of including that scene since you find the key to the door next to where kali's picture is and also the replicant event quest is about kaine and kali too so it was probably already on their mind)

the rest (sorry season 1)

honorable mention to rikachimalu(fio's jp seiyuu) bc i love her, she's precious and i think it's kind of funny that she's voicing a nier protagonist and as such is one of the most frequent guests on reincarnation livestreams despite being kind of out of place lol (don't have much to say about fio though except that she's also firmly in "reincarnation through royalty" territory while also getting some "enforced societal rules" through the oppressive caste system she finds herself in)

kind of pains me that i don't have a seperate section for noelle bc i do think she's interesting, but i already said everything i wanted to say about her in the sections above

akeha is super straightforward family baggage, i think you can figure her out on your own

levania and his whole thing with his mom (hidden stories) tells me that they probably also fall into the entire theme of agency loss through reincarnation much more than i first thought, but i haven't looked into it enough to make any statement on it

i included mama since we finally get to know more about her in season 3 - which does look like it follows the established theme too btw! for speculations sake i do think it would be very in theme for mama to basically add her own story into the cage to help the fight and now this character mama - as a seperate version of the 'real' mama - has to deal with existing as a reincarnation bound to wander and defend the cage by her real version's choice

you couldn't pay me to care about rion and dimos, it's not happening and trust me i tried. it's an aesthetic thing, i liked rion's original design so much that i assumed he would lean into a different aesthetic and now all of his other outfits were disappointments and i don't like him. yes i do judge books by their cover too

finale

i know reinkane gets a bad rep bc it's a gacha game that god forbid expects you to play it and while i do think the gameplay is a dumb reason to hate it since some people - especially japanese players apparently - just love this style of game, i also won't be the person to tell you to play a gacha game.

it is some level of commitment to successfully free-to-play it and especially if you're prone to spending money on gachas please just stay away from it and check out videos or the stories on nierrein.guide. while they are still giving out lots of stuff every so often they also have in recent times added more and more stuff to push you to spend money (before awakening stones there was no reason to re-pull characters since you could upgrade the re-pull stuff with event items and before the character elements you also didn't need that many characters)

and while i can wish all i want that it wasn't a gacha game, at least with yoko taro i know that this thing i love wouldn't exist if it wasn't a gacha game. (no really the people who 'wish it wasn't a gacha game' need to realize that he wouldn't have made anything remotely resembling this if he wasn't told to make a gacha game. you can still wish it! but him being forced to make games and making the best of it is yoko taros whole thing)

also i know we attribute all of the nier stuff to just yoko taro as short hand - and he definitely deserves punishment for what he has done - but this is once more an invitation to also cuRSE YUKI WADA'S NAME!!! HE DID SUN MOON STORY AND VoC FORSAKEN MAIDEN TO ME!!! ALSO GIVE ME ANOGG YORHA DARK APOCALYPSE AS A REINKANE CHARACTER SHE FOLLOWS THE THEME PERFEC-----

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Needs To Be Said

Once again it has happened, and this time it was in our own backyard. A frustrated loner dealing with demons decided to make a name for himself and as a result 6 families, and a community will never be the same. This is a time for good words and wisdom, but none are forthcoming. Why pause for wisdom when there are political points to be made, and adversaries to link to the horrific crime? After all, why waste a crisis? This is what sadly passes for wisdom among our political leaders. Yet words are needed. The reality of our current time is that no one is listening. No one is listening in times of great division. Perhaps no one is listening because no one want to address the problem.

I think that is the real reason. Why listen when no one even addresses the issue? Instead of addressing the issue, we revert back to our political bunkers, find a way to use news to attach “them,” and we hurl accusations across the board. So let’s address the issue. Not the fake issues we hear but the real reasons stories like this happen. Let’s have a real conversation. A real conversation means you have to let other people talk. We have trouble doing that. Perhaps we can refrain from calling people names and hear their perspective. Let me throw out the first pitch in this discussion. Rest assured, I will make you mad. Everyone. The truth of the matter is that we are all to blame. Here is a first pass list of all the ingredients that have created our particular, tragic stew.

First, this should be the elephant in the room. 40% of all children born today are born into a fatherless environment. Showing up once a month with a check is not what a father does. A father is there every day. A father sometimes has to rather aggressively and strongly take down anti-social or troublesome behavior. Many young men have to learn how to overcome an anger or brooding response that often troubles them. The best teachers are those men who have wise advice that flows from winning the battle themselves. Besides that 40% there are many other homes where the father has mentally checked out. It is equally the father’s responsibility to raise the kids, and dads play a unique role with young men and how to govern their impulses. If you are a mom who steps in when your husband does something differently than you – you better stop. And dads, step up to the plate now. This is our fault.

One other thing. I hate to remind us about what was common knowledge until about 10 minutes ago historically – boys and girls are different. They see the world differently, they react differently, and they are impacted by sex and hormones in different ways. The perpetrators of these acts are young men. We need other men to intervene in their lives earlier, and it would help if we do this without someone jumping from behind a bush to yell “Patriarchy.” This is your fault.

To those that insist again and again that the sole issue is the gun, many of us remember a time when kids were excused from school during hunting season and had their guns in their car, and we were not troubled by these events. The gun did not wander into a public place on its own and go off. Collectively we held more tightly onto the notion of values and morals more closely in other times. Collectively, we have spent the last generation or two decrying any values as somehow oppressive and so we have thrown them off. This is the other side of that coin. This is our fault.

There are others who want to confer a near sacred status to the gun. We must admit that we have a societal problem when troubled young men possess a weapon. The easy thing to do is expect the government to do something. It is all of our responsibility. Even among those see the value in having a gun, my hope is that we have at least as much investment in the words of Jesus about peacemaking, and turning the other cheek as we do the right bear arms. When we have the right absent some very important language, we become imbalanced. I do not want to make the mistake of equating gun ownership with a failure to value peace, but we must choose our words and language carefully. When we elevate the gun – it is our fault.

There is a common thread to these crimes, and that is an anti-social aspect to those who commit them. Young men need socialization. My heart goes out to teachers who labor in impossible situations. They are caught between administrations, parents and their own expectations. Yet in these past few years we have seen leadership of teachers and school administrations work very hard to keep schools closed. Then we are shocked at a rise in anti-social behavior. At the same time, we expect a certain level of behavior and etiquette in the classroom while at the same time tossing out the foundations for these behaviors. We no longer teach civics and the mere mention of God in schools sends school administrators to the fainting couch. We no longer hold up people as examples. We apply hopeless 2022 standards back onto people who could not have even comprehended our time, and if we find any supposed fault, we tear them down and tell every student how awful and bad this country is. We fill them with such disdain and then we are again shocked that some strike out against it. If not this place and time, when else would you choose to be born if you had your historical choice? And yet we ruthlessly tear this down with all of its benefits and blessings. Perhaps it is time to expect leadership from those who see themselves as leaders. It is your fault.

There are also certain parents we should address. There is an epidemic of parents who try to protect their child from every slight and harm. Johnny didn’t fail the test because he did not know the answers, but because the teacher didn’t like him. Your kid doesn’t disrupt the class, the teacher picks on him. Nothing is ever your child’s fault, which might be a trait he learned from mom and dad. Right now, it seems the responsible parents are pulling out of the school system. Is this a recipe for success? Keep standards high and enforce those standards. Do not lower them for anyone. When a teacher is tough on our kids, we should see that for the learning opportunity it is, and not something that I have to protect my child from. To every teacher that was tough on me, who expected more from me than I did from myself, who made me push hard and yelled at me when I did not hustle – THANK YOU !! When we pull away from a challenge – it is our fault.

I can’t believe that this needs to be said, but it does. To those who produce video games that feature and dramatize violence and shooting others – this is your fault. I do not want to make a law, but I appeal to whatever shred of morality and decency that you may yet harbor – stop doing it. This desensitizes people to death. And while you may be right that these “games” do not harm a normally functioning person, they undoubtedly affect those who commit these crimes. We know from previous cases the level of involvement that many had in these games. Just because you can does not mean you should. There is something higher to aspire to than another dollar of profit.

The same goes for those who continue to produce music that both glorifies and normalizes violence against women, police and other societal figures. You cannot continue to produce such content and then decry the acts that are downstream from the content you produce. This is your fault.

Even more people will not like me now. There is a mythic story that most of us like to hear. While the details are different, the plot is the same. The lone figure enters a situation and makes things right by themselves. In a previous era that figure might have been Atticus Finch, but now it is Liam Neeson with a particular set of skills, or Denzel Washington with an accurate nail gun. As the body count goes higher and higher we cheer more and more, even as we shake our head at the news where body counts are a grim reality. The truth is we have grown far too comfortable with fictionalized scenes not that different from the reality we saw yesterday. Perhaps our own choices add to the profit of those who create that content and adds to a calloused culture. What we tolerate, we will get more of. It is our fault.

To our political leaders, and I use the term “leader” very lightly, start to lead. Leading is not what is done in the aftermath of an event, but every day. Stop using every news cycle as a chance to win the news conference and be a leader of all the people. Stop demonizing others in the vain attempt to score points. Stop seeing every event as the chance to fund raise for your campaign. This is time to take a breath and take a larger look at our culture and your role in the dialogue. This might be a good time to lower the temperature instead of raising it so your fund-raising can increase, and incidentally you get to keep what you do not spend on the election. When you decry a pet issue while engaging in legalized graft you should see this is not the best look, and people notice. This is your fault.

To our churches, it is time to step up and not because we choose to engage in one end of the political arena. We have too much politics already and not enough engagement. We need to step in where there are no fathers. We need to not only hear love, joy, peace, gentleness, kindness and self-control, but see it in action. We need to keep our own standards high and lead from strength. There are some who like their Christianity muscular, and this is a time to flex. This is not the time for another political voice, but physical presence in homes and neighborhoods. To the extent that we have not, this is our fault.

If I have any friends left this is where I lose them. We hear the word “safety” far too often. The reaction is pull back and think solely about safety. This is exactly the opposite of what is needed. We need to engage more, not less. We need to meet more people, not less. We need to love more, not less. With each engagement, and each new person we meet the odds for loss and hurt increase, but so do the odds for redemption and grace. Grace always requires a risk. This is something that Jesus knew, and went anyway. Now it is our turn.

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The Depiction of Women in Frankenstein: Mary Shelley as a Staple of Social Commentary

A/n: As promised, my final piece of uni writing! This landed me a 13.75/20, which means that it is fairly-well substantiated and a valid piece of literary analysis. The main point of critique was that I didn't interact or go into discourse enough with existing sources. Otherwise my essay was deemed "quite inspirational". So instead of uwu fanfiction I'd like to present you this more scientific and academic (maybe even boring) side of myself. Do enjoy!

P.s. My dm's are always open should anyone be interested in going into this a little bit more or should anyone have any questions.

The Depiction of Women in Frankenstein: Mary Shelley as a Staple of Social Commentary

Daughter of two vociferous literary revolutionaries and wife to a renowned poet and activist, societal expectations for Mary Shelley and her work were always set high. Her publication of Frankenstein was nothing short of successful and pivotal in that “Shelley invented modern science fiction” (Sturgis 59). Though the novel was initially presented and perceived as a “ghost story” (Shelley 7) there appeared to be an underlying tone of social commentary present. This, however, is not surprising, as Mary’s mother, Wollstonecraft, was an avid advocate for women’s rights and gender equality. It becomes apparent through the characterisation of women within the text that Shelley seeks to denounce the idealisation of uneducated, objectified and submissive women. In doing this she presented herself, akin to her mother, as an activist for women and their rights.

In this essay I will argue that Shelley condemns the view of women as submissive, passive creatures through the male protagonists’ descriptions of women. I will do this by analysing the stark contrast in depiction and characterisation of several women within the text, through the male protagonists’ eyes. To achieve this, I will primarily focus on three female characters, namely Elizabeth Lavenza, Safie and the female creature. I chose these personalities specifically because they each represent different values and types of women. In addition to this, I will also be touching on Mary Wollstonecraft’s call to the education of women as addressed in her A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. This because Shelley herself plays around with the same ideas and concepts. In doing so I will bring forward Shelley’s own advocation for the education and emancipation of women.

Before I start analysing Shelley’s work I want to introduce Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. In her work, which was “the first book on women’s rights published anywhere in the world” (Botting 296), Wollstonecraft called for the education of women as she believed that “if woman isn’t fitted by education to become man’s compassion, she will stop the progress of knowledge” (2). She furthermore argues that education was crucial in women’s understanding so they wouldn’t revolt or rebel against their “duty” (Wollstonecraft 2). On top of this, she condemns the sensibilization of women, stating that “their conduct is unstable because they feel when they should reason: and their opinions are wavering because of contradictory emotions” (Wollstonecraft 42). Here we see that Wollstonecraft disapproves of the emotionalism of women and how she wants to step away from the stereotypical depiction of woman as a sentimental creature. In her work she ultimately claims that due to the lack of reason and plethora of sensation, women are considered to be weak and “fragile in every sense of the word” she also adds that they are therefore “obliged to look up to man for every comfort” (Wollstonecraft 42). This then implies that the emancipation of women is achieved through education and reason.

Continuing on, I would like to shift my focus to Shelley’s novel and its female characters. As stated before, I will be analysing the three figures of Elizabeth, Safie and the female creature. In this part of my essay I will concentrate on Elizabeth Lavenza specifically. I will be analysing her characterisation and portrayal through the eyes of Victor, the main narrator in the book. In the novel, we are introduced to Elizabeth through Victor who describes that she, as a “sweet orphan” (Shelley 35) was taken in by his parents. From the very start she is presented as some sort of object, Frankenstein’s mother even referring to her as “a pretty present for [her] Victor” (Shelley 35). He seems to consolidate this sentiment, describing Elizabeth as “[his]” (Shelley 36), the possessive pronoun reaffirming the objectification. Aside from being seen as a possession, we see that after mother Frankenstein passes away, Elizabeth is appointed the new matriarch of the house. This is especially shown here: “She devoted herself to those whom she had been taught to call her uncle and cousins” (Shelley 44). Here Elizabeth is presented as the nurturing, parental figure and even further along in the story we see that she often intervenes as a nurse or caretaker: “how often have I regretted not being able to perform it myself! I figure to myself that the task of attending on your sick bed has devolved on some mercenary old nurse, who could never guess your wishes, nor minister to them with the care and affection of your poor cousin” (Shelley 64). Examples such as these reinforce the portrayal of the compassionate, caring woman. In terms of her personality, we soon learn that Elizabeth is a very emotional and sensitive woman. A good example would be her reaction to the death of William: “She fainted, and was restored with extreme difficulty. When she again lived, it was only to weep and sigh” (Shelley 72). Remarkable here is that Victor is said to be the “comforter” (Shelley 73) of the family, which coheres with a concept that Wollstonecraft previously introduced: because Elizabeth is so frail and emotional she needs Victor’s support. Wollstonecraft’s sentiment regarding the wavering of rationality and reason due to overwhelming emotionality is furthermore confirmed when Elizabeth is called on as a witness during Justine’s trial. We see here that while “simple and powerful” Elizabeth’s testimony “was excited by her generous interference, and not in favour of poor Justine” (Shelley 85). In other words: her passions and emotions contributed to the conviction of her friend, thus reinforcing the idea that strong emotions are a weakness, as they cancel out any reason. In terms of characterisation, we also see that Elizabeth is often described as a “sweet girl” with “gentleness, and soft looks of compassion” (Shelley 189-190). Throughout his narration it becomes apparent that Victor sees Elizabeth, as the perfect woman, even going so far as to state that he “never saw any woman who excited, as Elizabeth does, [his] warmest admiration and affection” (Shelley 151). We can conclude from this, that Victor deems the emotionally vulnerable, nurturing and motherlike woman the ideal one.

The second character I will be discussing is Safie. Here it is important to mention that unlike Elizabeth and the female creature, this character is observed and narrated from the creature’s point of view. We are introduced to this character in chapter XIII when the monster is in hiding, taking refuge in a local cottage. Very noticeable is that in comparison to Elizabeth, the focus with Safie mostly lies on the woman’s physical features rather than her emotionality. The creature describes her as having “a countenance of angelic beauty and expression” (Shelley 116) and being “charming” (Shelley 121). In terms of her personality, the creature deems the Arabian to be “sweet” as well as “lovely” (Shelley 117). She is furthermore described to be “always gay and happy” (Shelley 118). While these traits are directly worded by the creature, through reading her story we see that Safie is actually a very brave, smart and self-governing woman rather than an overly sentimental one. Her independence and bravery were inspired by her mother who “taught her to aspire to higher powers of intellect, and an independence of spirit, forbidden to the female followers of Mahomet” (Shelley 124). Following her mother’s advice, Safie abandons her religion and sets out to Europe as “the prospect of marrying a Christian, and remaining in a country where women were allowed to take a rank in society, was enchanting to her” (Shelley 124). This reveals to the reader that Safie’s priorities include intelligence and independence, rather than motherhood or love. While Felix is definitely a romantic partner to her, having been referred to as her “lover” (Shelley 127), the marriage is also a sort of leverage, ensuring her freedom as it offers an escape from her repressive and sexist religion, as mentioned in the quote. However during her travels to unite with Felix, Safie’s companion falls ill and passes away, leaving her “unacquainted with the language of the country, and utterly ignorant of the customs of the world” (Shelley 127). Here her true bravery shines through as she keeps pushing forward with the help of an Italian family, despite being alone in a foreign country. Eventually once settled in with the De Laceys, the creature, who is equally “unacquainted” (Shelley 127), informs the reader on their learning process, stating that “she and [him] improved rapidly in the knowledge of language” (Shelley 118). This then also supports the statement that Safie is indeed a smart woman, being capable of learning a new language in a matter of months. When we apply Wollstonecraft’s philosophy to this, we see that Safie closely resembles that new woman considering that she is in touch with both her reason and passion. She furthermore endorses Wollstonecraft’s educational stance as she actively pursues knowledge. In terms of sensibility Safie has only been described to “[appear] affected by different feelings; wiping a few tears from her lovely eyes” (Shelley 117) once, when meeting Felix. We can conclude that in terms of this character we see a healthy balance between emotionality and rationality, therefore introducing a different “type” of woman. It is safe to say that Safie is to be regarded as “the incarnation of Mary Wollstonecraft in the novel” (Mellor 5).

Moving on, the third and final character I would like to discuss is the female creature. It is once again important to note that this part of the story is told from Victor’s perspective and that this creature was never actually brought to life. She was merely an idea and request. We learn that the idea of the female creature is introduced by Frankenstein’s monster, after he fails to find a human counterpart: “I am alone, and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species, and have the same defects. This being you must create” (Shelley 144). This request, or demand, is however not well-received by Victor: “Shall I create another like yourself, whose joint wickedness might desolate the world? Begone!” (Shelley 145). However after a lot of contemplation and convincing, Victor agrees: “I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe for ever, and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile” (Shelley 148). The task proved easier said than done, as Victor struggles to “overcome [his] repugnance to the task which was enjoined [him]” (Shelley 149). Victor seems to think and overthink his decision until ultimately he decides against it, therefore breaking the agreement. He comes to this conclusion after thoroughly considering what a new creation might bring forward:

I was now about to form another being, of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times more malignant than her mate, and delight, for its own sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man, and hide himself in deserts; but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species. (Shelley 165)

This revelation brings more to light than meets the eye and requires a more thorough reading. I will start with analysing the female creature’s speculated character. This is speculation because she was never actually brought to life. In other words: this version of the female creature only ever existed in Victor’s inner thoughts. Nonetheless, we see that this female is depicted as malevolent or violent and seemingly emancipated since she might not conform with what her creator, Frankenstein, imposes on her. On the other hand, the creature is also described as “a thinking and reasoning animal” (Shelley 165), which strives from Victor’s ideal woman (cf. Elizabeth) and makes her a threat. Here lies the sexism and Shelley’s critique thereof. She exposes Victor because “he is afraid of an independent female will, afraid that his female creature will have desires and opinions that cannot be controlled by his male creature” (Mellor 6). What we can also deduce from this is that Frankenstein seeks to adhere to the “sexist aesthetic that insists that women be small, delicate, modest, passive, and sexually pleasing – but available only to their lawful husbands” (Mellor 7). We see throughout the story that aesthetics and beauty are important virtues as both Elizabeth and Safie, though perceived by two different protagonists, are praised for their beauty. This is in stark contrast with the female creature, as Frankenstein reasons that the male creature might perceive her as a “greater abhorrence” (Shelley 165). Shelley with this shows the superficial mind of Victor Frankenstein and brings a whole system of sexism in societal standards to light. It is remarkable to see how, despite never even having lived, the female creature becomes one of the most crucial characters in outing her criticisms.

When comparing the three female characters with one another, we notice a sort of spectrum. On the one end there is Elizabeth who is seen as the perfect woman and wife by Victor’s standards and on the other end we have the female creature who is nothing short of horrifying, violent and a threat to him and his standards. Somewhere in the middle we then find Safie, the fictional embodiment of Wollstonecraft and her ideals. Now, what sets Elizabeth apart from these other two women is her objectification. She is often presented as a matriarch and sometimes even an object or something akin to a pet in relation to Victor. She is submissive and for the most part reliant on the men in her life as previously mentioned. The other two women differ in that they strive for emancipation and independence. Furthermore these two women are described as rational creatures, rather than “sensible” or emotional ones, which is exactly what Wollstonecraft was advocating for.

To conclude, while Shelley’s Frankenstein at first glance presents itself as a “ghost story” (Shelley 7), a thorough, more critical read brings to light a sharp piece of social commentary. Shelley masked her criticisms, which were heavily inspired by her mother’s A Vindication for the Rights of Woman, by writing mostly from the perspective of males. These criticisms entailing women and the sexist expectations that society has provided are revealed through the male depiction of three female characters. There are several things to be established surrounding these women. First of all it becomes apparent that Victor favours his Elizabeth, who is the staple of a housewife: submissive, oppressed and dependent on her husband or provider. Then there is the self-governing Safie, who travelled across the continent just to obtain her freedom as a woman. The third and final personality, the female creature, is pivotal in that she is the epitome of Shelley’s critique. Victor Frankenstein fears this female creation as she is rational and will likely have a strong will of her own and can therefore not be controlled by his male creature. He furthermore is appalled by this creature as she does not conform with the stereotypical beauty standard. Throughout this narration Shelley brought to light the intricate and subtle elements of sexism in which Victor, the man, presents himself as superior to women. Shelley’s work went on to inspire and “managed to change the Western world’s conception of women’s rights, human reason, education theory and romantic love” (Sturgis 55). In her work Shelley advocates, as her mother before her, for the education of women and gender equality and seeks to denounce the submissive woman as a whole.

(2681 words)

Works Cited

Botting, Eileen Hunt. “Crossing Borders and Bridging Generations: Wollstonecraft's ‘Rights of Woman’ as the ‘Traveling Feminist’ Classic.” Women's Studies Quarterly, vol. 35, no. 3/4, 2007, pp. 296–301.

Mellor, Anne K. “Possessing Nature: The Female in Frankenstein.” Frankenstein: The 1818 Text, Contexts, Criticism. By Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. Ed. J. Paul Hunter. New York: W.W. Norton, 2012.

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Edited by M.K. Joseph, Oxford University Press, 2008.

Sturgis, Amy H. "Feminism, Frankenstein, and Freedom." Reason, vol. 47, no. 2, 2015, pp.54-60, 6.

Wollstonecraft, Mary. A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Edited by J. Bennett, Oxford University Press, 2017.

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A Doctor’s Tale

words: 6.9k

relationship: Bruce Banner x desi!daughter!Reader

warnings: character death, slight spoilers for Marvel Studio’s The Avengers, fluff, angst

A/n: thank you so much @gotnof*cks for helping me with this idea! You’re so kind and I hope I didn’t make this offensive in any way. I’m happy for any corrections. Please be kind, this was very difficult for me to write and I committed a few writing sins. I hope you’ll enjoy this any way :) (gif by @steves-on-a-plane)

My Masterlist | Part 2

The air was heavy with moisture, yet the heat of the day has not passed. Bruce heaved with exhaustion, the new climate put a noticeable strain on his body. The temperatures made him sweat vigorously and gave him a headache, especially on his way up these damned stairs. He would need to get adjusted to his new surroundings before he could work efficiently.

Another thing he would need to tolerate were the bustling streets. Everywhere Bruce looked, there were crowds of people, so close together it made his hands shake with anxiety. He preferred taking longer routes that were less public and less triggering.

After he had become afflicted with the other guy, Bruce couldn't stay. He was hunted down by the United States Armed Forces, so he had to flee. He knew he could hide in India without much trouble. He read about the country and their societal norms, so he felt somewhat calm, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Kolkata.

The city was beautiful, of course. He admired the architecture and the many different buildings. He loved the parks, the bridges and the temples. The different kinds of food made him especially happy, yet he hated how talkative and social everyone is. No matter where he went, someone would try to bond with him, which triggered his anxiety.

Generally speaking, he enjoyed life in India, if it weren't for that unbearable weather. As he arrived at the top of the stairs, his shirt was wet from his sweat and the overly high humidity. With a sigh he pulled out a bottle of water to rehydrate – the amount of water he must have lost is remarkable. The water was warm and not as relieving as he had hoped, but it would have to suffice.

With one arm, Bruce wiped away the sweat that formed on his forehead, before he entered the house he was looking for. He heard about this shelter where some women took in ill women and children who could not afford to go to the hospital. Bruce had admired their dedication and hoped they would accept him as a volunteer.

With cautious eyes he looked around the room. He could see that the owners try their best to keep it clean and welcoming, but the smell of illness is prominent in the air. This chamber is obviously designed to be a reception area to check in their patients, but the cheap chairs and chipped wooden table were a sign of a lack of money. They were probably spending it on medical supplies and food.

Bruce stepped further into the room, the floorboards creaking, “Hello? May I speak to anyone?” Shyly, he began to play with his fingers, feet shuffling nervously.

A beautiful woman entered the room from one of the four doors and Bruce sucked in a breath when her sparkling eyes met his. She looked exhausted, but nothing could ever dim her beauty. The floor creaked slightly as she made her way to stand in front of him. She was small, yet her confidence was unmissable.

The woman raised an eyebrow, “What can I do for you, sir?” Bruce swallowed and let out the breath he had been holding, “I'm Bruce Banner. I heard about your work here. Uhm, are you the head doctor?” She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at him sceptically, but nodded nevertheless. “I would like to offer my help. I think this non-profit is incredible and I would love to assist?”

Finally, he broke eye contact and stared at the floor, terrified of the woman's reaction. Now, he could not see the amused smile playing on the smaller woman's lips, “Well, Bruce, how could I ever deny any help. However, I would quite like to learn something about your background, you know. Any qualifications?” Quickly, Bruce looked up a panicked look in his eyes, “Of course, I'm sorry, I should have mentioned that beforehand. I'll answer any questions, I'm sorry!”

She smiled a big toothy smile and jerked her head towards the sink, “Let me just...”. Bruce nodded quickly. It seemed that his usual knowledge of words had disappeared. All he could think about was how soft her brown skin looked and the gentle curves of her face.

“It's Aarohi, by the way”, she spoke as she washed her small hands, “Well, actually Dr. Verma, but we're friends now, right Bruce?” He smiled, completely smitten, “Right”

It was at this point that Bruce knew he would fall in love with her. And he was right. She brought out the best of him, her outgoing and confidant ways helped him to learn about himself and he rekindled with his body and soul. The three and a half years he had been in Kolkata taught him to love himself, admittedly that was still hard for him, but being able to help women and children in need made him feel good. And Aarohi had been by his side the entire time.

She opened her arms and heart for him and lead him through his issues. When he'd wake up screaming from his nightmares she was there to calm him down. His head between her hands as she pressed small kisses all over his face.

When he was too shy to talk to anyone but her, she would do her best to try and include him. By now he was way more comfortable talking to others. It was still scary, but not as panic inducing as it used to be. Bruce became a better man, all because of Aarohi, which is why after only a year and a half, he got down on one knee, hand shaking.

“You are the light in my life. When I arrived in India, everything was dark, but you showed me how to live again. I am a better man, because you bring out the best in me. I love you, with all of my heart. And I know that getting married is not possible for us, at least at the moment, but will you take this promise ring, for I promise I will forever love and cherish you, support you through thick and thin, in times of hardship and in times of ease. You are my world d without you I'd be lost. Aarohi, please accept this ring as a sign of my devotion” - and she did.

It wasn't really a surprise when she became pregnant shortly afterwards. Bruce had never been so happy before. Sometimes he feared about the other guy. What would happen if he came out or even worse, if their child would have his monster DNA, but his spouse reassured him and kept him calm as best as she could, “He hasn't come out for your whole stay in Kolkata and even if he would, I love every part of you, Bruce”

And once their baby girl was born, he was head over heels for you. From the moment he layed eyes on you he knew that he would do anything for you. “Bruce, do you want to hold her? Do you want to meet your daddy, shona?” It felt like time was frozen when he held you in his arms, your tiny fingers mindlessly holding onto him, a tiny yawn falling from your mouth.

And at times it was really hard. Bruce nor Aarohi wanted to stop working, their little clinic meant to much for them. So they switched between watching you and working. Bruce would have loved to bring you with him, but the chances of you catching a disease were too high to risk it. And therefore, your parents spent most of their time apart, yet their relationship kept growing stronger. Bruce's love for your mother increased every day and even now that you're eight months old his heart still swelled when he looked at her.

It's another hot day, the heat and humidity weighing heavily over Kolkata. Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat. The smell of tea fills the air as his thick and delicate fingers fumble with the warm cup, his eyes trained on your sleeping body. He smiles and walks over to your crib, a smile on his face, “I love you, shona”, he whispers before he gently takes you out of your little bed and cradles you in his arms.

Bonding with you means everything to Bruce. He adores you with every fibre of his being, which is why skin on skin is one of his favourite activities. To feel you and to know you're alive coats him in a sense of calmness. He sits back down at the table and rubs soothing circles onto your back, “Daddy's got you, shona don't you ever worry your pretty little head. I promise I'll protect you” Soft lips press onto your forehead, your father's scent surrounding you, “Always and forever”

Bruce gently rocks you while humming a soft melody and simply enjoying the moment. Peace and quiet are a rare occurrence in his days which is why he cherished them so deeply. Bruce loved to trace your features, to see how you look so similar to him.

He could hear Aarohi return before he spotted her through the window which allowed him to quickly dash to the door with you, still safely pressed to his chest. The door creaks as he opens it, a smile immediately covering his face as he spreads his arms for a hug, “ Welcome home Momma, we missed you so much” She laughs at his adorable greeting and steps into his embrace. Both of them are sweaty, but the feeling of their loved one is overpowering, dulling the stickiness of their bodies. Bruce gazes into her eyes as if she had hung the stars and he feels his heart flutter. It only takes a moment before their lips meet in a gentle kiss, emotions and love poured into it, “I love you, Bruce” - “I love you too. So much”

Suddenly, a small cry disturbs their moment, “Oh Y/n, shona, what's wrong? Did you miss Momma?”, she coos and takes you out of Bruce's embrace, “Don't cry, Momma's got you. Are you hungry? That's fine, I'm here” She smiles and gently strokes your hair. “She's had some fruit and veggies and a bottle that you've prepared”, he mentions as he walks into the bedroom to fetch a shirt. Aarohi smiled down at you, her beautiful daughter, “Have you been such a good girl eating all your veggies?” She takes off her bloodied and stained shirt from work and lets down her bra to feed you.

Exhaustion is clear on her face, but even when she sighs, she's the most beautiful woman Bruce has ever seen. Especially while she nourishes you, his own flesh and blood, he can feel his heart swell. She keeps you alive and healthy, the biggest gift he could have ever received. He makes his way over to the two of you and brushes some strands of hair out of her face that must have come loose from her tight bun, “How is everything at the clinic?”

“It's really stressful. I think something is going around. We'll see more of this virus for sure.”, she sighs looking down at you, “We need to be especially careful. I don't want Y/n to fall ill. Not with this” Their gazes meet “I'll make sure to be extra sterile then”, he whispers before pressing his lips to her temple.

She leans into him with a smile, eyes closed, “Thank you” His hand gently rubs over her arm, his thumb drawing circles. After a while you let out a whine, fed and sated. “Oh, shona, are you done? Does Momma need to burp you?” She wrestles you up on her shoulder to pat her soft hand against your back.

“It's very busy back there, you should hurry. Our doctors can't keep up with them alone.”, she whispers, turning her head to look at Bruce. He nods and leans down to capture her lips into a kiss. It's gentle and sweet, just like her, “I love you”, he mumbles against her lips. Then, he leans down to press a kiss onto your head, “I love you too, shona” Aarohi grins and turns you around to face him, “We love you too, Daddy”, she says and waves with your hands in her hands.

Bruce had absolutely no idea why he let himself get dragged into this mess. Actually he did, how could he ever say no to the pleading eyes of that little girl. She looked so tiny and scared and he could see you in that girl. Hopeless and scared. So he followed her, clueless about the events that were to follow soon.

Regret fills Bruce the moment he enters the house and helplessly watches as the girl leaves through a window – no ill father in sight. He huffs, a self-deprecating smile on his lips, “Should have gotten paid up front, Banner”

“You know”, a voice calls out to him suddenly, “For a man ho's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle” A woman appears out of the shadows, short, curly, red hair frames her face. She looks absolutely stunning. Carefully, Bruce puts down his medical bag and turns towards the female, “Avoiding stress isn't the secret”

She raises her eyebrow, “Then what is it? Yoga?”, she jokes, no humour in her voice. Nerves arising, he rubs his hands together to calm himself, “You brought me to the edge of the city”, he remarks, looking out of a window, “Smart”. With his hands clutched, Bruce walks towards it in an attempt to scan the area “ I uh,”, he mumbles, “I assume the whole place is surrounded?”

The woman takes off her red cardigan and moves towards him, “Just you and me”. “And your actress buddy?”, he questions, “She was a spy too? They start that young?” He walks back towards the middle of the room. “I did”, she answers. “Who are you?”. He is nervous and he feels his anxiety crawling up his back. “Natasha Romanoff”

Silence. Bruce still fiddles with his fingers, but after a moment he looks directly into her eyes, “Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Because that's not gonna work out... for everyone”. Natasha slowly moves closer to him, “No, no of course not”, she shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed, “I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D”.

He looks down and rubs his hands, “S.H.I.E.L.D”, he states monotonously, “How did they find me?” Looking up, Bruce sees her looking at him, “We never lost you, doctor. We've kept our distance. Even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent”, her voice is low like she's trying to speak extra calm. “Why?”, Bruce asks.

“Nick Fury seems to trust you”, she answers seriously, “But now we need you to come in”. He can't help but smile, “What if I say no?” Natasha smirks, her eyes twinkling dangerously, “I'll persuade you” He looks down, his pink tongue licking over his lips in thought, “What if”, he pauses to look up, “the other guy says no?” There it was, the elephant in the room.

Bruce is very proud that ever since he fled to India, the Hulk has not made an appearance. He did not receive any unwanted attention and lived life normally. He was able to be a good partner and father, never giving in to his anger. But now, things might change and that scares him. He does not want to let the monster out. It seems like Natasha knows that as well.

“You've been more than three years without an incident, I don't think you want to break that streak”, she says and turns away from him. The echo of her steps fills the room. “Well I don't every time get what I want” When he looks at the woman, she is walking towards him, a phone in her hands, “Doctor, we're facing a global catastrophe”

A self-deprecating chuckle escapes his lips, “Well, those I actively try to avoid” Without giving any thought to his statement, Natasha sits down at a small table that is situated in the room and shows him a picture of a bright, blue glowing cube, “This”, she starts and slides the phone towards him, “is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet”

Bruce fetches his glasses out of his spectacles case and puts them on. Cautiously, he grabs the phone to get a better look of the cube, In confusion, he lifts his head, “What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?” Natasha leans forward while keeping eye contact, “He wants you to find it. It's been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one who knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, then that's where I'd be”

Natasha leans back in her chair as he takes off his glasses, “So, Fury isn't after the monster?” “Not that he's told me”, she says calmly. “And he tells you everything?”, Bruce retorts. Slowly, but with grace, the woman stands up, “Talk to Fury, he needs you on this”. But it's too late, he can feel his fear rising, “He needs me in a cage?”

In an attempt of reassurance, Natasha begins to speak, “No one's gonna put you in a-” but she's interrupted as he suddenly slams his fists onto the table, “STOP LYING TO ME”, he shouts. With the blink of an eye, the woman grabs a gun from under the table and co*cks it right into his face. A scared look settles on her face which she quickly tries to fight back.

Bruce steps back from the table. When he speaks again his voice sounds calm and collected, “I'm sorry”, he says, “That was mean”. A smile plays over his lips, “I just wanted to see what you'd do”. Natasha still holds the gun in her hands and Bruce puts his head in front of him to calm the woman down, “Why don't we do this the easy way where you don't use that”, he points to her gun, “and the other guy doesn't make a mess. Okay?”

Silence. “Natasha?”, he asks. The woman slowly lowers her gun, her gaze never leaving Bruce. After a few seconds she activates her earpiece, “Stand down”, she commands, “We're good here”. The eyebrows rise on his face, smile still on his lips, “ 'Just you and me' “, he mocks her earlier words. Natasha doesn't answer, she just stares at him from a few feet away.

“I need to tell my family. I have a daughter I need to tell her goodbye”, he suddenly realises, a panicked look on his face. Tenderly Natasha walks to him and places a hand on his shoulder, “Bruce this is urgent, there's no time”. There's a wild look in his eyes as he frantically runs to grab his bag, “No, please I have to. Y/n she's my daughter, I love her, I- I need to speak to her”

“Bruce”, the woman's voice is powerful and makes him stop in his tracks, “this is a global threat we are dealing with. There is no time. You can write a letter while we're on the jet. S.H.I.E.L.D will make sure it will arrive as soon as possible”. Bruce looks at the woman with a look that is similar to that of a kicked puppy and yet he sighs in defeat. He will soon come to learn that Natasha Romanoff does not negotiate, she gets what she wants, no questions asked. “Okay”, he whispers and follows the woman outside.

This is why you grew up being raised by a single mother. You love her more than anything in life. She made so many sacrifices and worked harder than any other person you know. She taught you everything she knew, about her work as a doctor, important life skills and most important how to be a decent human being. You try to be as kind and empathetic as you can, but you know your worth and found confidence in yourself.

Of course you're not perfect. You are insecure from time to time like any teenager and you are very temperamental from time to time. However, you are especially sensitive when it comes to the topic of your father. Ever since you could remember your mother talked to you about your father. She told you how kind and caring he is, how he loved you so much. But if he loved you so much, why wasn't he with you, with his family?

He sends letters to you and your mum and money to help you out and you appreciate that, but you wish he would just come up. Sometimes there are articles and reports about the Hulk. Aarohi had told you that your father could turn into him, but that you never had to fear him. And you don't, really. You love your father, but there's no solid relationship between you and your dad.

That is mostly your fault. You never answered your father's letters. Every time you sat down with a piece of paper and a pen nerves got the best of you. With shaky hands you put the pen down before you cried into your hands, careful to evade your mother. So one day you stopped trying.

Currently you're sitting in your room tinkering on one of your inventions. School has been quite easy for you and your mother kept telling you that you inherited your father's intelligence, a proud smile on her lips. Science came to you easily and physics as well as chemistry became your best friends. When you weren't busy helping your mother at the clinic you were experimenting with different chemicals and the laws of nature to try and broaden your understanding of the complex reactions and procedures.

The smell of spices and lemon fills the air in your room from your diffuser sticks while some soft rock plays on the radio. Your head nods involuntarily to the beat of some catchy chorus when you hear footsteps approaching. Not your mother's, she walks lighter than this. You turn around in your seat so you have a good view of the door as it opens to reveal one of the nurses that work for your mother. She frantically runs towards you, her eyes are wide and her lower lip is wobbling.

“Y/n it's your mother”, she whispers and takes a deep breath, “She just collapsed, we don't know why, I'm sorry, Y/n” You freeze at her words, eyes widening. Panic is bubbling up in your chest as your muscles tense, “What do you men? W-Will she be alright?” The woman just looks down which is as much of an answer as you need.

All of a sudden your body releases adrenaline into your bloodstream and you jump from your chair, your heart beating in your throat, “What are you waiting for?”, you yell at her, “Move!”. Your feet are moving on their own accord, the path to the clinic embedded in your brain from the thousands of times you have walked it. Hot wind is whipping your face as you run along the streets, the gravel and dirt scrunching loudly under the soles of your shoes.

You're panting once you arrive at the steps leading to the clinic, the humid air not helping with your struggle for oxygen, but you don't stop moving. The fear coursing through your veins overpowers the exhaustion. “Momma?”, you shout once you've barged through the doors. The floor creaks mournfully under your weight as you fiddle with your fingers. The smell of diseases and antibiotics hangs in the air. Usually you like being here, but now it feels like a weight that presses you down the further you walk in.

A doctor runs down the stairs, her steps rushed. She fixes you with her pitiful eyes and you feel anger bubbling up in your chest. “Y/n, my child, I'm so-” “DON'T”, you interrupt her, tears brimming in your eyes, “She won't die”. The snarling sound that leaves your mouth scares the doctor, but you run past her without care and sprint up the steps.

Upstairs, your mothers is lying on a thin mattress on the ground. Two nurses surround her, one presses a cold, wet cloth to her forehead, the other sits next to her to hold her hand. When she sees you she immediately gets up to make room for you. When your eyes land on your mothers face you release a gasp. She looks nothing like this morning when you saw her last.

She is pale around the nose, all her beautiful colours lost, and her skin is sunken down. Sweat is pooling on her forehead and runs down her temples in miserable lines while her eyes are hooded and half closed. The sound of heavy, flat breathes reaches your ears which finally breaks you out of your shock.

A few strong steps are enough to reach your mother's weak form. You fall to your knees with a soft thud and grab her hand, “Momma?”, you whisper, the first tears falling. A groan leaves her lips and she coughs nastily, “Shona?”,she croaks. A sob leaves your body and you press your head to hers, “Momma, what's happening?”

Her free hand moves up to cup your cheeks and you straighten to look into her strangely clear eyes, “I'm going to die, shona. I need you to listen to me”, she whispers hoarsely. “No”, you cry. Tears are freely rolling down your face. “No. momma you're not going to die, I won't let you, I promise”, you tell her desperately. You wipe away some tears with the back of your hand, before you open your mouth again. “Y/n”, Aarohi interrupts and you still. She never calls you by your name.

“I beg you, listen to me. I'm sick, been for a while. It's only transmitted over blood, so don't worry”, she pauses to take a breath while she shakily brushes some strands of hair out of your face. “You're a strong woman and I couldn't be prouder of you. Are you listening, Y/n?”, you nod, your vision blurry. “All I want for you is to be happy, okay? No matter what you do as long as you're happy that's all I could ask for, do you understand?”, she rasps out.

“Momma, what-”, you whimper, but she interrupts you again, “Y/n, do you understand?” You sob, but nod through the tears, “Yes, Momma” Her thumb moves to wipe away your tears and she sighs,”Good, That's good”. She coughs again and groans in pain,”Please talk to your father, shona. He loves you so much. Can you promise me that you'll write him?” Her voice sounds even weaker now, but your heart beats way too fast. The only thing cursing through you is fear. “I promise, Momma. I love you”, you cry, snot and tears mixing together.

Aarohi's hand falls from your face as her breathing becomes flatter. She closes her eyes, “I love you too, shona”, the words clumsily tumble from her lips. Your whole body trembles as it convulses. All your power leaves your body and your left to loudly cry next to your mother's death bed.

The next few weeks were hard for you,but you could never forget your mother's last words. You promised her you would reach out to your father, so you did. It wasn't long before you received an answer. His handwriting was shaky and hard to read, but you managed to figure it out, somehow. He told you he could not leave the United States by law, but he would be more than happy to welcome you into his home back in the USA.

You froze when you read his words. He wanted you to leave India, your home? You couldn't, this was your mother's everything. All your belongings and memories are in Kolkata, how could you abandon that? But then you thought back to your mother. She wanted you to be happy, right? And maybe a new beginning wouldn't hurt. After sleeping about your father's letter you realised that a blank slate is exactly what you needed right now. Because you wanted to heal.

So you wrote your father another letter in which you agreed to move in with him and began to pack your bags. You carefully chose which of your mother's things you wanted to bring with you. Many of her clothes ended up in your luggage, her distinctive smell still lingering on the fabric. The two photo albums land in there too. How could you not, they kept all the beautiful pictures of your Momma. You also brought her favourite movies, some cooking books and lots of blankets.

Packing all these things was very hard for you and you lost a lot of tears, but now when you look at all of your bags you feel very accomplished. “I'll make you proud, Momma”, you whisper and grab the one of your stuffed furry toys that you did not put into a bag. It's a medicine bottle with huge eyes and a big smile, which your father gifted you for your third birthday. It's your favourite and you decided to keep it close by for emotional support.

With one last look you sit down on your old bed and wait for your ride. Bruce wrote you that someone from the agency he works for will come and get you. Now, all you have left to do is wait.

“Come on, Bruce. It will be fine. You're shakier than me when I've been running on coffee only”, Tony smirks and pats his friend on the back., “She's your daughter, she loves you”. Bruce looks up at him with wide, slightly red eyes, “Tony, her mother just died”. The news of Aarohi's death hit him hard. Ever since he had to leave India his mental health has been suffering.

The government didn't allow Bruce to leave the country without a written agreement signed by the president. He begged them to let him return to India, but they wouldn't budge. The only thing he achieved was tighter security to keep an eye on him. He doesn't remember how many nights he cried himself to sleep. He couldn't see the love of his life or his daughter. Never before has he felt that low, not when his father murdered his mother nor when he tried to commit suicide after turning into the monster he is, but he could not give up. He wanted to be a better father than his own, he wanted to make you feel loved and appreciated.

So he settled on writing letters to you and your mother. Nothing scared him more than the thought that you might forget him or worse, hate him for leaving. He wrote you letters every months and sent you presents he hoped you would like. His biggest wish was to be as present as possible throughout your life. The only replies were from Aarohi though. She reassured him that you still loved him and talked about her life and the clinic. He wished he could be there with her.

When he finally received a letter from you he was ecstatic, but as soon as he started to read, his face fell. The love of his life is dead. Gone. He sat in his lab in shock for two hours, not moving an inch until Tony entered the room. That's when he broke down crying into his best friend's arms, “She's dead, Tony”, he whispered through his tears.

It was the billionaire's idea to invite you to live in the tower, “I know you miss her. Plus I wouldn't mind having her here. Don't tell anyone I said that, but I'd love to see you smile more often”. This was like the light at the end of a tunnel for Bruce. The thought of having you with him made his heart beat faster. Could he finally become the father you deserved?

And you agreed to his proposal. He opened your letter together with Tony as emotional support and when he read your beautiful, neat handwriting tears of joy shot into his eyes, “She said yes, Tones, she actually wants to come!” and Tony was happy to hold Bruce once more as he let out all of his tears, the tension slowly leaving his body.

Now he is waiting for the Quinjet that carries Natasha and you to arrive back in New York. She volunteered to be the one to accompany you. Even though Bruce told her he wasn't holding any grudges, Natasha felt guilty for ripping Bruce out of his family, so when the chance opened to help reunite them, she jumped at it.

“Tony”, Bruce asks, his voice wavering as if he's not sure whether or not to continue, “I'm scared, what if she doesn't li-” , but his best friend stops him, “Ah ah ah, no such negativity under my roof!” He pauses to glance at his surroundings, the wind howling around his ears, “or, you know, on my roof” Their eyes meet for a second, before Bruce goes back to rubbing his hands anxiously.

“Seriously Banner, you'll be fine. I've known you for sixteen years and I know that I have fallen in love with you at least three times”, the philanthropist says and smirks at the others shocked expression.

Before any of them can say another word the whirring of the Quinjet sounds from the distance. Bruce immediately straightens all colour draining from his face. A cold sweat is breaking out on his forehead and his hands become clammy. Tony leans forward and whispers gently, “You've got this, Banner”.

It feels like a lifetime, but also only a few seconds before the S.H.I.E.L.D plane lands on the roof and the motors slow down. Bruce holds his breath, scared, but hopeful. His life is about to change in just a few moments, for better or for worse. Nervously, his eyes focus on the exit of the Quinjet as he awaits to see you again, after sixteen years of missing you with all of his heart.

The electric sound of the gate opening makes his hands shake in anticipation. And then he sees you standing next to Natasha in all of your beauty. Your hair is pulled back into a braid which makes your eyes pop all pretty. A thin long sleeve and a pair of mum jeans hug your body nicely, yet you avoid to look into his eyes. Natasha and you both carry two suitcases each, but there are still some more bags on the plane.

The older woman gently nudges you forward with a smile to be encouraging. The cold New York air makes goosebumps rise on your arms and you shiver. This is it, you will finally meet your father. You swallow down your fear and move forward, eyes still trained on the floor. Natasha's footsteps are right behind yours which comforts you greatly. You've come to like her during the flight.

It's only when two pairs of shoes come into your vision that you stop dead in your tracks. The luggage that you've been carrying drop to the floor and you use all the courage you can muster to look up at your father, your heart beating loudly. Bruce looks as nervous as you feel, pale face and sweaty hands, but he puts on a brave face and forces a crooked grin to appear.

“Hey, shona”, he mouths your pet name. The look in his eyes is so hopeful it makes your heart churn. All the fear and anger you've carried with you is suddenly forgotten as tears collect in your eyes. The only thing you feel is the longing for your father's love that you've been deprived of for all these years. “Daddy?”,you whisper. As the words leave your mouth you start to run forwards, right towards Bruce.

He opens his arms right in time for you to fall into them, your face buried in his chest. Sobs leave your mouth as your tears stain his graphic tee, “I missed you so much”, you whimper and fist his jacket to pull him closer. He wraps his strong arms around you and carefully places his head onto yours, “I missed you too, shona, so much”. His voice breaks and a few tears begin to fall, some out of relief, some out of guilt.

The sound of your sobs and sniffles fill the silence. It's like a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were so scared to arrive in New York and how different things were going to be, but being in your father's embrace is all you needed. All this time you've been so occupied with being angry that you never realised how much you wanted any kind of fatherly love.

When you pull back to look into Bruce's eyes you stare into his red rimmed eyes, some single tears resting on his cheeks, “Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have returned home, but I had to sign these agreements and they wouldn't let me. I never forgot about you, shona. I love you so, so much”. His voice is shaky and rough and he reaches out to cup your face, his fingers wipe away your tears.

“It's okay”, you find yourself saying, “You're with me now, that's all that matters”

You both smile at each other, happiness radiating from you, when your moment is rudely interrupted. “I told you everything would be alright, Banner, Just shows you should listen to me more often”, Tony declares with a smirk to which Natasha responds with a warning glare. “Oh come on, Nat. I'm just joking”, he shouts before turning to you and winking obnoxiously.

“Y/n”, your father begins, “this is Tony, my, uh, best friend. This is his tower in which you'll be living with me. We have our own level”. Your eyes widen, “We have our own floor? That's insane!”

Tony laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder, “Of course, only the best for my science buddy and his daughter. If you have any questions, you may ask F.R.I.D.A.Y, she is an artificial intelligence built into the tower. She'll be available whenever”, he states, his eyes sparkling, “Isn't that right, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” The AI answers immediately,”Anytime, boss”.

Bruce smiles at you. His heart feels light and happy and he looks over to Natasha who gives him a thumbs up and a wink. “Dad?”, you ask him, shivering a little, “Can we go inside? I'm freezing”. “Of course”, Bruce nods eagerly, “let me just help with some of your bags”. Happily, he skips to the Quinjet to grab some of your luggage and hauls them over his shoulder. “Let's go, then”.

You walk behind your father, Natasha and Tony close by, as you take in the inside of the Avengers Tower. You can't believe your eyes: The sheer size of everything is overwhelming to you, but you're very excited. Meeting your father was scary, but now that the anxiety has fallen off of you, you're all blissed out and floaty.

The lift is very smooth, but the glass floor makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. Bruce notices your nervous shifting and slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Grateful for the warmth, you turn to him with a smile and mouth a thank you. In just a few seconds you've reached the right floor. Once all your bags are moved into your apartment, your father turns to his friends with a smile, “I think we've got it from here. Thank you, guys”

They nod at him and leave to give you two some privacy. “Do you want to see your room? We can unpack your things”, he asks, a nervous waver in his voice, “if you're okay with me helping, of course”. You take one of his hands in your own and grin, “I want you to be there with me. I spent so much time wishing you were home. I'm not letting you go any time soon”.

Hearing these words, he can't help but tear up, “I'm so happy you're here, shona. I wish your mother could have been with us too”. You release a shaky sigh and try to hold back tears of your own, “Me too, dad. Me too”. The feeling of being pulled into a hug by your father pulls you out of our head and you realise you started crying again. “I just miss her so much”, you sob into his chest.

A sniffles sounds from above you and you raise your head to see Bruce crying, “I'm sorry”, he whispers and wipes away some of his tears. “It's okay. At least I have you back now, daddy”. Gently, he cups your head and presses a kiss to your hair, “We've got this, shona. We're not alone anymore”, he tells you meaningfully, trying to convey that he meant what he said.

“Shona, I love you”

You breathe in and place his hand on your erratically beating heart.

“I love you too, daddy. So much”.

.

.

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Rules & Roses

“are you following me?”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2073

Paranoia was starting to kick in. After days of running that same path without seeing another trace of that woman who reminded me of Lauren, I was genuinely starting to worry about just how f*cking insane I was. I mean, think about it this way: I dedicated six years of my life to loving Lauren Reynolds so passionately that nothing else in the world mattered. As long as I had her, I was content. Then, one day, without warning, she was gone, and I was left to pick up the pieces. After those six years loving someone to the point that my life became theirs, it was hard to move on. Truthfully, I don’t think I ever did. There I was, thirteen years later, and my whole life was still about Lauren. For all I knew, she disappeared of her own free will. She woke up on that Wednesday morning, decided that she had enough of me, so she made it seem like she was going to the market, but she was really getting as far away from me as possible. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, I thought she loved me… but Lauren liked to keep moving, and she didn’t like to get close with anyone— hence why I hardly knew anything about her— so it was possible that she just got bored of me. If that were the case, then I was definitely insane for still being head over heels in love with her.

Not knowing what happened with her, or with us, made it impossible for me to gauge if it was okay for me to actually still be strung on her or not. The good news was, however, that I could run it out every morning at the park. Since it was slowly getting colder, the tourists were spending more of their time in the city where there was artificial heating. As for the usual faces I saw on the path, they were still there. The older couples that liked to walk the path on the warm, sunny days so that they could stare at all of the different flowers in the huge garden all day were already long gone, probably cooped up in their homes to stay warm with each other. I envied that life. It was the life I wanted with— Stop. The point of running was to just focus on the burn in my lungs and legs. Playing my music as loud as I could in my ear was also to help deter any wandering thoughts. If anything, I could just focus on the lyrics and pretend that I was elsewhere in the world with her— No.

Thirteen f*cking years and I still couldn’t shake Lauren Reynolds.

As I reached the top of the U-turn, I decided to sit down on the bench there for once. Usually, it was taken up by one of the older couples or a lazy tourist; but, since they were all gone— and no one else was going to dare to sit on the cold metal— I got to stretch out for a moment as I caught my breath and tried to end this tug-of-war in my mind. People continued to pass. As they made their way around the U-turn, they each sent me a glance, all for different reasons. Some were confused, others were curious, and others had just accidentally looked over at me. There was confusion because it was way too cold to just be sitting on a metal bench in the park, and curiosity because they wanted to make sure I was alright. With every glance that came, however, I tried to see if I could spot that woman who looked like Lauren. I really wanted to see her again. Not because I wanted to talk to her or something, but because I just needed that reassurance that it wasn’t her. I needed to move on. Despite the fact that I hadn’t seen her again since that first glance, I was holding out hope that at some point I would get to prove to myself that I wasn’t cray.

“How are you not freezing?” his muffled voice passed through the music playing in my headphones just enough to catch my attention.

I looked up at him. It was the man from the other day, the one who bumped into me— the six foot Nordic God that I had ignored. I gulped. “I’m used to it.”

“Ah. So, you can say more than ‘sorry’.” He laughed. My eyes raked down his figure, taking in every detail of him. Since it was so cold out, his hair wasn’t all sweaty and sticking to his forehead this time around. His brown eyes were just as dark and endless this time as they were the first time, though, and I felt myself getting lost for a second before I caught myself on the detail of how his nose flared to stop himself from smiling when he saw me staring. “I’m Aaron,” he said when he realized that I didn’t know how to respond.

I smiled up at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“What’s your name?”

I stayed silent, my headphones still in my ears. I thought that it was common knowledge that you weren’t supposed to bother someone when they had headphones in. Then again, Aaron looked older, so it was possible that it was a generation rule, not a societal one. I stood from the cold bench to show that I wasn’t going to answer him. His eyes followed mine. As I jumped on my toes to try and warm myself up, my gaze continued to search his body. He was wearing a tight grey Under Armor shirt that showed off his loose abs that he was working on, and his biceps… Again, a six foot Nordic God. As for his pants, he was wearing knee-length black sports shorts over black tights to keep his legs warm. My eyes snapped back up to meet his face when I heard him chuckle.

“You’re shy,” he said to me.

“Not really.”

“So, then, what’s your name?”

This guy wasn’t going to give up— but, again, Americans were normally people that kept to themselves. If they didn’t, it was a huge red flag. The fact that this guy bumped into me the other day, and now he was trying to use that brief interaction as an excuse to talk to me again was unnerving. Stranger danger, right? That was an American concept, for the most part, but I supposed it was a valid thing to be concerned about. At this point, I had learned that they were onto something with their “stranger danger” concept. Despite the fact that this man was very attractive, looks could be deceiving. I wasn’t going to give him my name or any other attention, really. The less the better. I shouldn’t have stopped on that bench. I shouldn’t have stopped on the path the other day when he bumped into me, and I shouldn’t have stopped on the bench this time. I needed to learn to just keep moving. Just because I had all the time in the world to do what I want in the mornings now, that didn’t mean I should lolligag.

“I should go,” I said.

This time, he didn’t stop me with any kind of protest or hold on my hips. I wasn’t sure why, but that one detail from that morning stuck out the most— well, besides the fact that I thought I saw Lauren. He had knocked into me because of my sudden halt, and in order to save me from falling flat on my face, he caught my hips and held me until he was sure that I was okay. Even then, I had to pull from his touch. With all of the caution I had been proceeding with, it was irking me that I couldn’t forget how he held me. Maybe it was just the fact that he was attractive. I was easily blinded by love and sexuality— use Lauren Reynolds as the prime example— so, I couldn’t trust even myself when it came to attractive strangers like the six foot Nordic God who was following me around.

When I arrived at my car after my run, I sat down in the driver’s seat, the door still open so that I could knock the dirt off my running shoes and change into something more comfortable. As the sun was coming up for the rest of the morning, it started to warm up, but only slightly, I missed being warm all the time. Even with the constant traveling Lauren and I did, we managed to catch everywhere when it was warm. We never ran into snow unless it was on purpose. Like, this one time, Lauren took me to Poland so that we could stay in a cabin where the snow could trap us in, giving us all the time in the world to just be together and not be interrupted by anything. I hated the snow without her. I hated the cold without her. She used to keep me warm, no matter what. Now, I had no one to keep me warm, which made the cold— especially the D.C. cold— unbearable.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off earlier,” he said.

I rolled my eyes before looking up at him. “Are you following me? Do I need to call the cops?”

He laughed. “No. I just wanted to apologize. I’ll leave you alone—”

“Good. ‘Cause I will call the police—” My threat fell short when he dug into his pocket, pulling out a black wallet, then flipped it open so that I could see the inside. My jaw dropped. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I scanned every line of the I.D. laminated next to the bright gold FBI badge. “So, your name really is Aaron.” That was a relief, I supposed.

He laughed again. “Yeah.” He pocketed his badge. “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just on a run the other day with my friend, and we were racing, so I was trying to keep up after she passed you; but I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I ran into you.”

“Did she win?”

“What?”

“Your friend. Did she win your race because of me?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from widening his smile. “Yeah, she did. She would have won anyways. She’s fast.”

“You’ll have to challenge her to a rematch, that way I can bump into her next time so that you can win.”

I shivered suddenly. I tried to pass it off like I was cold, but, in reality, it was because I had just realized that I was flirting with him, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with a stranger. It was just that he pulled out that badge, and it suddenly gave me a sense of security with him— even though it could have been a fake badge, or the fact that he was still a stranger with a badge. I shouldn’t have been warming up to him as quickly as I was. I knew it was wrong. I knew that it was dangerous. Yes, neither of us could stop smiling. After not smiling for so long, I thought I forgot how to laugh. Then he came along, and it seemed easy to smile and laugh. It was natural. Unlike the other day, this wasn’t forced or awkward. We were just two people who happened to keep running into each other on the path, and because of that, we felt the need to create polite conversation. Still, it was wrong— It didn’t have to be wrong. No. It was. A badge didn’t mean he wasn’t still a stranger to me.

Aaron seemed to notice the truth behind my shiver, though, so he backed down. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” He turned on his heels to make his way to his car.

“Y/N,” I said urgently.

He stopped. “What?” he asked while turning back around.

I swallowed hard. “My name’s Y/N. I figure, if you’re in the FBI, you’d find out sooner than later.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“It’s okay.”

Aaron bit his lip nervously. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Aaron. See you tomorrow.”

------------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

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(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer BerlinalePremiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatschplayed the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

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DETOX’ed: Social media vs. the netizens

In recent years, social media and technology have become more integrated into users' daily lives – especially in this timeline where everything is online. Its users are projected to be at roughly 3.78 billion users across the globe, increasing by 5% from 2020. Per day, 144 minutes get spent on social media and messaging applications. The said media also provides work and is a source of e-commerce. Its usage is rising as time passes, and so is technology – but too much of these may be toxic. This manner is where social media detoxifying comes in; the latter is self-detachment towards the said channel. The situation is where users may virtually disappear for a day, three, a week, months – or even for good. The detoxifying act may also come in posting less or not at all and reducing lists of friends and followers. Mainly, what drives individuals into social media detox sessions is they see the platforms become "horrible."

Social media isn't toxic - many users are.

Marshall McLuhan believed that humanity, with the help of media, will be more involved and engaged within the electronic media world. Platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter allow us to stay in touch with friends and family, catch up on the latest news, and discover new places and people. With the information exchange, the socials become a more recent source of knowledge coming from user-generated content. Through socialization, individuals may find themselves making social media as means to cope. With the platforms being several outlets, it primarily entertains the user – not noticing how much time has passed.

However, social media has its downsides.

1. Influencer Culture

First thing in the morning, how many times did you have to reach for your phone to check Instagram notifications? Several netizens love to associate themselves in the fantasy or ideal world they live in – where everything is perfect. Social media interactions are becoming the source of external validation and "self-worth." It started because of influencer culture, where they project themselves having the perfect appearance and life. They get adored by their hundred-thousand or million fans for it. This culture has been imposing insecurity on individuals – to a point where some have to resort to rigorous editing of their faces and bodies. It also got to a point where everything needed "𝒶𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒾𝒸." Some are being in debt to show their viewers how "well-off" they are.

Kudos to the influencers who have been using their platforms well, especially in addressing societal issues and providing the voiceless a voice.

See also:How we're all being changed by influencer culture(BBC News)

2. Tea Time! #CANCELLEDT

“Oop, normalize spilling the tea! #receipts”

Tea (according to Urban Dictionary) denotes gossip. Many topics may be of discussion over a cup of tea. People often use it to refer to someone who has "spilled the tea."

In how many instances did you find yourself caught up in an online argument on Twitter? McLuhan also said that media is an extension of the human senses. With that, the rising user-generated content comes the individuals' sharing fractions of their personal life, including stories, images, and videos of life events and encounters. Some of them may end up being rants, innuendos, argument comebacks, or whatnot.

Another "tea" source is from cancel-culture content. The latter aims to call out individuals who've done wrong – to hold them accountable and stop the support of these people. Eventually, it evolved into allowing everyone to have a voice against mistreatment. However, there are instances that it is overused or even misused – just because specific individuals want revenge rather than justice. Certain netizens misuse the act of canceling to gain clout or simply be the center of attention. It gets pretty ridiculous that this generation cancels many public figures because of a tweet they made 10+ years ago. It is a time back when they had no background education on specific matters they have discussed. For instance, this tweet by Filipino celebrity Maine Mendoza, famously known as "Yaya Dub":

Translation: If you have nothing nice to say, it’s better that you keep your mouth shut. F*g.

She acknowledged her mistake and made an apology. She mentioned being more aware, especially in terms of the discourse regarding the LGBTQIA+ community.

See also: Why we can’t stop fighting about cancel culture(Vox)

I used to be a "cancel culture stan" myself. I had my keyboard warrior era – which led me into series of conflicts back in high school. I wanted to "cancel" every single person who did me wrong. Growing up, I wish I could've addressed my issues directly and called them out for their acts without thinking of vendetta. I should've tried communicating and educating, even if I'd only get "humiliated" in the end, as dumping everything online will solve nothing. I stopped being Twitter-active in 2018 as means to help myself devise healthier ways of conflict resolution. I also felt like I annoyed half of my Twitter followers at the time – being the bearer of "bad news."

Speaking of bad news…

3. The News

Image Credits: Rappler

With the daily consumption of media, people get influenced by it. If one watches or listens to the news regularly, most of the heard material is probably about the pandemic. The reports are an odd way to interact in a society with few people to talk to. On a personal note - even if the information is terrible, I feel more socially connected to individuals when reading the news. But, how much bad news will you still have to take while scrolling past the socials?

What you hear has an impact on your mood. According to Logan Jones, Ph.D. in psychology, "Consuming too much of this type of news, whether actively or passively, can be very toxic." Additionally, according to a study by Johnston and Davey, those watching bad news felt more anxious and depressed than those watching positive or neutral material after only 14 minutes.

The bad news isn't the only thing that's "bad" - there's also fake news. Have you ever seen Tito/Tita send news in your Viber/WhatsApp group chat, saying that “COVID-19 vaccines will turn you into zombies in few years?” Oops. #antivaxxer #karen

Misinformation pertains to data that was presented incorrectly. On the other hand, disinformation is a willful attempt to mislead people. Propaganda is an excellent example of this. For political purposes, disinformation has the potential to distort real-world events. It may only be a letter, but the difference between misinformation and disinformation comes down to intent.

Of course, misinformation and disinformation have their relevance to mental health. Psychotherapist Cynthia V. Catchings said that "They can worsen the mental health issues certain individuals have, and increase the symptoms, making it more difficult for them to heal or cope better." She also stated, "They can also cause new mental health issues because of the inability to cope with both."

There are many lessons people can learn from the pandemic, but perhaps the most important is how important accurate information is to our safety and well-being. Guidelines shared by public health officials gave direction when coping with the many unknowns of the potentially fatal COVID-19 virus. People's lives and the number of cases were significantly impacted by their simple instructions to mask up, wash hands often, and stay away from people.

Although the news is an essential part of our lives – we cannot simply get rid of it.

Why are most of the netizens at fault for the“toxicity?”

Image Courtesy: When in Manila

Since socials are solely media, people tend to ignore how technology has shaped our lives. Per Darin Barney's "Classification of Theories of Technology" (2004), good technology is efficient. Due to their neutrality, technology and social media cannot be judged on moral and political grounds. As a result of appropriate or inappropriate use of these devices, outcomes are either positive or negative. The platforms should not be blamed if social media is used for immoral purposes. Instead, the social media users in this way should be held accountable. In the opinion of the author Catherine Price, spending time on social media is not necessarily harmful. The most important thing, she says, is using it with intention.

Is social media detox a valid move?

YES.After scrolling through social media feeds for hours - many users feel drained, anxious, or dissatisfied. Per an article from HelpGuide, who spend too much time on social media are at risk of mental illness. People feel inferior when they see distorted images of reality on social media. It's easy to be convinced that it isn't true when it comes to green grass on another side of the fence.

To conclude...

Any amount of time spent away from the internet and social media can benefit one’s mental health. Taking small steps away from it is certainly recommended if you're not ready to take significant action away. Ultimately, we all cope and manage our emotions in different ways. It's hard for some people to deal with being upset almost every day because of what they see online, so some choose to filter what they see.

Technological advancements are essential, according to Bernard Stiegler. The use of social media is, therefore unquestionably a must. What we spend on our phones, particularly on social media, could be put to better use. When social media was first introduced, it was a harmless game. As a result, it has become a part of our everyday lives; everything, from elections to public discourse, is influenced by it. Social media, on the other hand, is not a substitute for reality. Although it has immense influence, or at least appears to - it is a curated and selective sample of what's happening in the world.

References:

Chantim, A. (2020, January 31.) “Here’s how to do a social media detox the right way.” Good Housekeeping. Retrieved from https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/g30681374/social-media-detox-tips/

Chavez, H. (2020, December 4.) “9 Reasons Why a Social Media Detox is Good for You.” Lifehack. Retrieved from https://www.lifehack.org/483829/9-positive-benefits-of-a-social-media-detox

Chen, J. (2021, February 3.) “36 Essential social media marketing statistics to know for 2021.” Sprout Social. Retrieved from https://sproutsocial.com/insights/social-media-statistics/

Collins, D. (2020, June 25.) How The News is Impacting Your Mental Health. One Medical. Retrieved from https://onemedical.com/blog/healthy-living/news-impacting-your-mental-health/Ignite Teen. (n.d.) “The importance of social media detox.” Retrieved from https://igniteteentreatment.com/the-importance-of-social-media-detox/

Johnston, W.; Davey, G. (1997, March) “The psychological impact of negative TV news bulletins: The catastrophizing of personal worries.” British Journal of Psychology. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/14149927_The_psychological_impact_of_negative_TV_news_bulletins_The_catastrophizing_of_personal_worries

Lindberg, S. (2020, May 18.) “Is Watching the News Bad for Mental Health?” Verywell Mind. Retrieved from https://www.verywellmind.com/is-watching-the-news-bad-for-mental-health-4802320

Monde, J. (2021, April 17.) “Maine Mendoza tweet about “bading”, is this the controversial deleted post?” Philippine News. Retrieved from https://philnews.ph/2021/04/17/maine-mendoza-tweet-about-bading-is-this-the-controversial-deleted-post/

Murphy, A. (2020, February 19.) “How to take a social media detox and improve your mental health.” Declutter The Mind. Retrieved from https://declutterthemind.com/blog/social-media-detox/

Oberlo. (2021). “How many people use social media in 2021?” Retrieved from https://www.oberlo.com.ph/statistics/how-many-people-use-social-media

Parenta. (2017, May 5.) “7 amazing benefits of doing a social media detox.” Retrieved from https://www.parenta.com/2017/05/05/7-amazing-benefits-of-doing-a-social-media-detox/

Siapera, E. (2018) Understanding New Media. 2nd Edition. SAGE Publications Ltd.

Statista Research Department. “Number of global social network users 2017-2025” Retrieved from https://www.statista.com/statistics/278414/number-of-worldwide-social-network-users/

Urban Dictionary. (n.d.) “Tea.” Retrieved from https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=tea

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The King’s Guard | the minis ii.

pairings: kim seokjin x reader ; jeon jungkook x reader ; min yoongi x reader

rating: R (18+) | genre: established relationship! au, historical! au smut, fluff

warnings: explicit sex;(dunno what this kink is called) but jinnie likes being called the king by the lohs; kink discoveries; oral (m receiving); dom-sub undertones

word count: 4.9k

g/n:and because it’s seokjinnie missing hours~~~ Okta is also based off Okta in Hwarang and YES AHRO MAKES AN APPEARANCE WOOTTT also,,, chapter 6 might also come out real soon aCIfjoasdfj

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

It’s been a while since Seokjin had retired to your shared room after a long day. He’d initially considered waiting for you while he changed into his sleeping garments but after some time and eventually managing to finish a scroll he’d taken from his office, Seokjin gets up from where he’s seated by the window and asks for Yunho.

A different voice answers from outside, “Jeonha, the guard you are looking for is not with us right now.” Seokjin tries to push away the worry that’s starting to creep through him. The king chooses not to reply, quickly heading over to the dresser to put back on the clothes he was wearing earlier.

You’d never stayed out this late before and as much as he hated to admit it, the capitol isn’t always the safest place, even for its own citizens. There were rumors of an uprising rebellion in the south and the thought of you in danger - he couldn’t risk it. He won’t risk it.

The king asks for Chaeyoung, who was told to be by the palace kitchens. He flees out of the hanok as soon as he gets dressed, taking his sword with him. Just in case. With haste in his steps, Seokjin arrives at the kitchen in no time, asking the cooks if they happened to see you anywhere in the palace.

He receives no response concerning your current whereabouts from the gungnyeo’s quarters either, so he gestures to the guards to follow him, the group walking briskly towards the stables. When Seokjin discovers Yunho’s horse is likewise missing, worry grows in his chest, already praying to the heavens that nothing bad has happened to you.

Gesturing for the troop to hurry, he arranges the saddle on his horse by himself. “Jeonha!” Seokjin breathes a sigh of relief as he hears Yunho’s voice calling him from a distance. He pulls on the reins, directing the horse to turn around. The king, however, doesn’t see you with Yunho, nor does he sense any security in the guard’s worried expression.

“_________?” The guard bows briefly, before opening his mouth to speak. Realizing his current predicament does not need to reach the ears of the other guards, Yunho manages just in time to stop himself from speaking out loud.

“My King,” Yunho speaks, voice low as he guides his horse nearer to Seokjin’s. “Jungjeon-mama is uh…” the guard racks his brain for a better word to explain your present condition but attains nothing. Instead, he settles on the plain truth, despite how strange it sounds rolling off his tongue, “the queen is...um… she’s drunk, your grace.”

It takes Seokjin a moment to process Yunho’s words - the possible image of your drunken state too much for your husband to even picture properly. Seokjin worries for your safety - knowing that you’d never had any proper alcohol in your life. The king quietly prays to his ancestors to watch over you for the meantime while he recollects himself before anyone notices, not wanting to cause any more worry.

When Seokjin deems everyone ready, Yunho suggests the troop to prepare a palanquin after having seen your state - clearly far too intoxicated to even sit upright on a horse. Yunho escorts the king to the establishment where Haesoo had called for his help.

Much to yours and Seokjin’s luck there aren't many people on the streets, given it was already deep into the night - which only got Seokjin worried and wondering; what could possibly be the reason for you to visit such a place? And at such a late hour?

Were you unhappy with your marriage? Was he lacking as a husband? As a king perhaps? A million questions are running through his head - unable to think straight as his horse gallops along the dirt road.

“Lady Ahro! Why do I feel like my husband is here?” you giggle, leaning nearly all of your weight on the poor lady. Ahro has been watching over you since she called for Haesoo’s attention who then called for Yunho, and now the same guard had paid her for such a task. Watching over royals was never in her line of duties, especially those whose drunken selves are a pain to attend to, but the lady was willing to do anything as long as she’d get paid.

When someone came to inform her earlier this afternoon of the soon arrival of an elite client, she was banking on one of her regulars paying her a visit, but she never expected the nation’s queen to visit such a place like Okta.

The establishment was built by and for the elites, yes, but it catered to a more generally younger and more… for lack of a better word, carefree audience. People usually came to Okta for two things: to meet new people of the same societal ranking and to have fun, occasionally, a little too much fun in privacy of the rooms it provided.

It was awkward, at first, unsure how to approach each other. You take a deep breath and speak first, and you can sense her gratitude in the small smile playing in the corner of her lips. “I need your advice,” you start off, voice barely above a whisper.

The lady in front of you lightly raises an eyebrow at your request. “I believe you have to be more specific with your request, my queen. It is my belief that I am knowledgeable on most things - but I am not sure which field in particular you wish for me to share my insights.”

You gulp, completely frozen in place. Chewing on your bottom lip, you consider rethinking your life decisions. Why were you here? What actually got you here in the first place? Ah yes, to learn more about what goes on behind the doors of a married couple, or, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to know more about the pleasures of the flesh.

Confessedly, you and Seokjin were relatively a young married couple, you were together for quite a few years already, but you only had the chance to stay in the privacy of your shared room only after your marriage. Other than that, the only displays of affection you had with Seokjin never really went past kissing, or that one time he accidentally groped your chest when you almost fell out of balance while on a horse… if that even was to be considered under that category…

And it wasn’t that the both of you hadn’t been on that certain level of intimacy yet, but during those times - you felt like you could have actually contributed more. If you were being completely honest, you had mixed feelings about the whole matter - even questioning the fact that you are even concerned about this in the first place.

Due to the hushed rumors circling the noble class of the city, you’ve had the chance to eavesdrop about this particular establishment which allowed the citizens to enjoy art and music in a more...unconventional manner.

Okta was a crossover between an inn and a canteen but people apparently spent more time consuming alcohol while enjoying each others’ company (whichever came first) in the common and private areas inside the place.

You’d even heard of a lady who told tales of all genres, including erotica, in exchange for a few silver coins. The price was reasonable and with your curiosity and your married-woman-insecurities out on your sleeve, you thought Okta was perhaps the place where you’d finally discover the answers to your unspoken queries.

So you had secretly scheduled a meeting with the infamous “Ahro” and the only other person who knew of this rendezvous was Haesoo, who swore on her ancestors that she wouldn’t tell a soul of your whereabouts, unless it would be of a life and death situation.

Your intoxicated state was apparently considered one.

You had most definitely not intended to actually consume alcohol but considering the fact that Lady Ahro’s stories ultimately had the small hairs on your nape stand on end, not to mention those tips she occasionally throws in for you to use, (tonight too, just as she had advised!), you figured you might as well have a little wine running through your veins to boost your lack of courage.

How you got to this point however - practically clinging onto Ahro for dear life as you giggle uncontrollably - was beyond you. Both your mind and vision have become hazy as the hours pass and you’re barely aware of what’s going on in your surroundings.

She hears rustling from outside the room where you spent talking for hours on end, and she wonders if her temporary guardian duties will finally end. At least the handsome guard had already given her more than three weeks worth of her wages.

The king pokes his head in, eyes scanning the room. He finds you practically draped over Ahro who looks like she’d had to deal with you since time immemorial. Apologizing in your stead, he requests Ahro to leave the two of you for a moment.

It takes the pair quite some effort to pry you off the lady. Seokjin offers another bag of silver in exchange for her silence and Ahro almost considers not taking the payment to preserve her dignity, but quickly remembers she didn’t have much of it in the first place so with a wave and a gentle reminder to Seokjin to never leave you alone again in the establishment, Ahro takes her money and scurries off.

“Sarang, it’s time to go.” Seokjin tugs at your hand to pull you up but you decline, looking away as you put on your best cutesy angry face. He just chuckles at you, gasping in surprise as you tug him downwards, ultimately landing on the spot next to yours. “I still want to play.”

Feeling Seokjin’s chest vibrate with laughter, you pout at him. Since when did Seokjin have such a wonderful neck? It seems like this is the first time you’ve seen his bare neck in years - his throat and whatever is that lump that’s sticking out from his throat is suddenly so...attractive?

In fact, you’ve found it insanely attractive that you’re unable to stop yourself from placing a wet kiss on his neck, just below his jawline. His breath hitches and the action only spurs you further, peppering his throat lingering kisses, working your way down to his collarbone.

Seokjin exhales shakily as he gently tries to pry you off him. “_______, dearest. Not here jagiya. We need to get you home.”

“Can we play then? When we get home?”

He’s never seen you reply like this before and your husband is tempted to ask who you were and what could you have possibly done to his wife, but judging by your current state, he deems it’s not going to end well if he does. Instead, Seokjin just nods at you in reply.

He’s surprised when that actually gets you on your feet. Wincing at the sudden headache that booms through your temple, Seokjin holds you steady as you stumble in your stance. As the pain subsides enough to be tolerable, you shake yourself off of Seokjin’s grasp, skipping giddily out of the room.

Finding difficulty bearing with your drunken mood swings, your husband lets his head flop forward in exasperation as he rubs his face with his palms. Realizing he has yet to watch you in case your inability to walk in a straight line might strike again, Seokjin quickly runs after you.

Just as he had thought, you fall midway to the back door, landing on your knees. Your husband rushes to you, asking if you felt any sort of pain. The boisterous laugh that escapes your lips answers his question efficiently.

Because of the sudden sound, Seokjin sees some of the people from the common area are trying to peek through the slits between the wooden panels covering the hallways, wondering where that sound came from. With graceful haste, Seokjin scoops you up from the floor and walks briskly towards the end of the hallway where Yunho and the rest of the group were waiting with a palanquin.

Your husband ushers you into the litter but your unusually stubborn self continues to cling onto the silken fabric of his jeogori so Seokjin had no other choice but to climb in as well - the palanquin, thankfully, spacious enough to fit two passengers.

Latching onto his arm the moment you’ve settled in your seat, Seokjin wonders slightly if you’ll have any recollection of this once you’ve become sober tomorrow. The king heaves a sigh, finally getting the chance to feel that certain level of relief now that you were quiet and beside him at last.

Seokjin might have spoken too soon.

Next thing he knew, you were snuggling into his chest, fingers dancing lazily along his thigh while you’re at it. Your husband didn’t find it suspicious at first, but when he feels your digits trail dangerously up north, Seokjin gently pushes your hand away keeping them secure under his grasp as he places them on your lap.

Desperation can’t seem to stop anybody though. Even with your hands cuffed beneath Seokjin’s huge palms, you manage to latch your lips on his neck one more time, sucking on the sensitive spot along the creamy expanse of his throat.

The sound that reverberates throughout Seokjin’s body is something you’ve never heard of before - the almost animalistic sound canonically shooting a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You continue your ministrations until Seokjin gets a hold of himself after an embarrassing amount of time, pulling away from you with a stern look on his face. He calls you by your full name, scolding you slightly of a behavior unbecoming of a queen, reminding you that you both weren’t in the confines of your room and any occurrence of a scandalous event is unaffordable by the royal family. You cower slightly in your seat, not expecting your very own husband to use his authoritative king voice on you.

But just like the interesting turn of events in a short time span tonight, the alcohol coursing through your veins seem to have a mind of its own.

Instead of letting your husband hinder you from your intentions, you take advantage of Seokjin’s loosened grip on your hands, climbing onto his lap swiftly and gracefully, that the palanquin manages to not move much so as not to raise any suspicion from outside.

“Have I been a very bad queen, Seokjinnie?” Your hand purposely brushes through his crotch before trailing upward to cup his jaw. Seokjin staggers at the teasing tone of your voice, thoughts drifting off to whatever they made you drink inside that made you a completely different person. He badly needs to get a hold of those too.

Pushing yourself further into his lap, so close that he feels your breath fanning against his nose. “Jeonha,” you whisper salaciously, nipping at the shell of his ear, “Aren’t bad queens going to get punished?” Seokjin remains silent as he stares at you with an intense gaze, lust clouding over his dark orbs.

“Hmm?” you tap his chin once, feeling the faint stubble of a promising beard. Your husband’s face remains stoic even with your provocative efforts, so you decide to take it up a notch, inspired and fueled by one of Ahro’s stories earlier.

Your hand travels under your skirt, lifting it just a little to reveal that tiny sliver of skin to your husband and as you raise yourself a tiny amount from his lap, you swiftly untie the cloth covering your most private of parts, throwing them aside somewhere else inside the palanquin.

“I am most willing to take any punishment, jeonha...” you whisper as you grind your core on his crotch. Even with your thick skirt hindering you from experiencing the intense pleasure from grinding on his clothed co*ck, there’s still that faint feeling of his erection as you grind even heavier. “Twofold,” you state, gyrating your hips to match your counting. “Threefold…” another one. You see the lump on Seokjin’s throat bob up and down as he gulps. “Fourfold.”

“Don’t worry, my queen. I’ll be sure to punish you accordingly,” comes Seokjin's equally strained reply, not taking his eyes off you as he thrusts upwards.

Seokjin returns you back to your seat beside him effortlessly, not a word spoken. Well, it’s not as if it’s needed. The tension inside in the now-seemingly cramped space is enough for you to perceive what might happen in the next few moments. As if in sync with your thoughts, Seokjin reminds, “Stay still in your seat, unless you want more punishment later.”

You manage to stay still in your seat, despite your thoughts completely haywire. Maybe you wanted more punishment? Or are you already asking for too much? Was he really going to punish you?

Not before long, the palanquin halts, indicating your arrival at the palace. Seokjin spares you a look, heart melting at the sight of you already asleep, snoring slightly in your sleep.

He chuckles at your slumbering form, climbing out of the palanquin first before asking Yunho to assist him as he clambers to get you out of the litter. Seokjin then proceeds to carry you in his arms and up the stairs to your hanok.

Laying you gently on the bed, Seokjin undresses you layer after layer, knowing how uncomfortable it will be for you if you continue sleeping in the multiple layers of clothing you have on. Your husband delicately tears off your jeogori first, then laughs to himself as he turns you to the side to untie the knot on your skirt, remembering your alcohol-induced bravado earlier. The young king makes a mental note to ask someone tomorrow to get a sample of whatever they had given you prior...for research purposes.

He takes the bowl of water he’s kept by the fire to maintain its temperature, pulls out a small washcloth from your dresser and dips the same into the bowl. Seokjin drags the white fabric along the expanse of your skin not covered by your undergarments. When he deems you freshened enough, he pulls on the ribbon holding half of your hair up in a ponytail.

Fishing your favorite brush from a nearby drawer, a satisfied smile plays on the corner of Seokjin’s lips, running the brush along your hair fanned out on the pillows. Though he loves you for who you truly are, one physical attribute of yours that appeals to him most is your hair - he can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s something about your hair that he finds so feminine, something he finds strangely, but insanely attractive - much more than he can ever admit out loud.

Propping an elbow for something to lean on, he finds brushing your hair particularly soothing and therapeutic, enough to even lull him to a deep sleep, one hand on the brush and the other holding your hand.

A raging headache and a parched throat wake you from your peaceful sleep, squinting as your eyes adjust to take in your surroundings. You try to recollect what happened last night, vague splashes of last night’s events splayed across your thoughts.

A royal robe covering haphazardly draped over someone’s legs discontinues your momentary reminiscence. Twisting your torso to the side, you see your husband, mouth slightly open as he snores away happily in his sleep. He must’ve taken off your outer clothes last night and — you rack your brain thinking hard if you had done something unintelligible and embarrassing.

Your brazen advances last night finally dawn on you, face cringing as you remember bits and pieces of how you were the night before. ‘It must have been a nightmare for Seokjin,’ you think to yourself, already conjuring up a lame apology for your inexcusable behavior.

Pushing your robe away from Seokjin’s legs, you take notice of the erection hidden beneath the confines of his pants. You make an attempt to not stare at it perversely but it was standing tall and proud like that, and oh - your eyes widen as you see it twitch, as if demanding all of your attention.

Wasn’t this a common occurrence in the morning? You might have felt it a few times during your rising when Seokjin spooned you in his sleep, but your timidity can’t seem to address the concern to your own husband.

Looking away, you shift in your position to share your blanket with your husband. Seokjin unexpectedly wakes up at the action though, giving you a small fright. “Sarang, you’re awake already? Seokjin is talking slower than usual, voice still groggy from sleep.

You nod at him with a shy smile, embarrassed at the fact that you almost got caught eyeing that thing between his legs. “Are you alright? Dizzy, perhaps?”

“Just a little, but I’ll be okay. Thank you for taking care of me last night,” you place a kiss on his cheek as Seokjin hums delightedly. “You must have taken quite the beating last night.” Fiddling with your fingers as you apologize for your behavior last night, Seokjin grabs at your hands and takes them between his.

“It’s fine, sarang. Actually, it was quite...amusing, if I do say so myself,” your husband comments, winking at you. Seokjin sits up, resting his back against the wooden board and beckoning you nearer to him.

As you scoot closer, you snuggle into Seokjin’s chest. Your husband places a kiss on your temple, before playing with your hair, just silently carding his fingers through them. “Do you mind telling me what actually happened last night - the things I said, perhaps? I can’t really recall them properly…”

“Truthfully I was worried when I didn’t see you here yesterday. It was already late when I returned from the office and I don’t really want to be that type of husband that locks you inside the palace but I became really anxious when you still hadn’t returned.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” you frown, mentally noting to inform Seokjin of your whereabouts before leaving the palace.

“It’s alright, really. Anyways, I found you practically attached to Ahro, was it? And then we went home. Now we’re here.”

“That’s it?” With the evident Seokjin’s haste in his recollection, you’re starting to get suspicious about how the previous night could have ended that quickly - that...uneventful.

“Nothing else happened? Like I didn’t do or say anything? Am I a quiet drunk?” Your husband looks overwhelmed with all your questions, gulping before he responds.

“You kind of said a couple of things...but! It’s nothing really, nothing major…” Seokjin chuckles nervously, scratching at the back of his head.

“That can’t be the whole story?” You raise an eyebrow at your husband, testing him. Sliding lower down his chest a little so you have a better view of him, you trace the faint stubble on his chin. “Tell me, my king? Please?”

“Don’t call me that,” Seokjin mumbles, looking away. “Doesn’t seem like you dislike it though, jeonha.” Your husband heaves a sigh, knowing you’ve won again. “You do know I love you with all my heart, right? And I don’t want you to think that I might take advantage of your drunkenness - which I didn’t, really, because you fell asleep too before anything actually happened…” He was stalling, you figured, as it might involve something that made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell the whole thing… I just… why do I only remember me saying something along the lines of punishment?” Seokjin looks down at you with dilated pupils.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you...it’s just…” your husband pauses, thinking deeply about what his next statement might entail. “I can’t think about it without getting hard…”

Seokjin looks almost strained as he looks to the side, avoiding your eyes. “If only you’ve seen - heard yourself last night, gods! It was like a different you completely”

Just as if the universe is on your side, you’re starting to get clearer recollection of last night’s events, realization slowly dawning on you. Likewise, Ahro’s words ring inside your head, urging you to go make your move. Relying on the last possible ounce of alcohol remaining inside you, you gather all your courage and make a proposition. “Am I still up for punishment? Jeonha?”

Seokjin dramatically exhales, rubbing at his face. “Don’t say things like that, ________!” Laughter is already bubbling in the pit of your stomach (just as much as the anticipation for what’s to come, in case your plan works out) but you control yourself, maintaining a straight face as you continue to query him.

“Why? Did I say something, my king?”

Your husband makes a sound, somewhere between a grunt frustration and resilience, and looks at you dead in the eye, “You saying those things just makes me really want to punish you.” Pulse rapidly accelerating, you make a final question, “What’s stopping you, jeonha?”

Seokjin wastes no time with your affirmation, connecting your lips together.Moaning into the kiss, he shifts in his seat to cage you between him and the bed, strong arms holding him up as he deepens the kiss.

Shamelessly grinding his erection against you, Seokjin grunts, gripping at your thighs to keep them spread, “Do you feel how aroused you get me all the time?” Mewling at the sensation, you manage to choke out a reply, “As do you, my love.”

Your husband deftly unties the undergarments you’ve slept in. “Seok…” a breathy whine escapes you as he latches onto on of your nipples. The foreign feeling of his warm, wet tongue sends you shivering and it takes all your might to stop him as you remember Ahro’s advice yesterday, squeezing at your husband’s lithe biceps.

“What is it, sarang? Do you wish to stop?”

“N-no. I want to take control, Jinnie.”

Albeit slightly taken aback by your behest, Seokjin nods, sitting on his heels. “Lie down, my king. I want to pleasure you.” Shock is evident in your husband’s features as he complies with your command, co*ck already twitching in anticipation. “Take off you clothes too.” Seokjin obeys without further questioning, unknowingly easing the mild worry nipping at you.

Just as what Ahro had told you yesterday, you splay your hands on his chest, before bending down slowly to place kisses all over the milky expanse of his skin. Moving further south until your reach that thin trail of hair, Seokjin’s sudden intakes of air continuously urge you on, until you finally get to his crown jewel.

Licking at your lips, you hastily pull his pants down, your desperation for a mutual release guiding your actions on instinct. As soon as his co*ck springs free from its confines, you get into action, placing a wet kiss on the tip of his length before slowly taking the head in your mouth.

“O-oh, f*ck! What did that lady tell you back at Okt…” Seokjin cries out a broken moan as you pull your mouth back up then diving back in, eventually getting lower to the base. You feel your husband tremble with your every bob, subconsciously tugging at your hair in pleasure.

Seokjin starts to squirm around you, pushing your mouth away from his shaft. “My love, please…. please let me be inside you. I can’t cum like this, please.” Seokjin beseeches, torso already covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Your husband switches your positions as he pushes you gently onto the bed, but your hand shoots out to grab at his wrist. “C-can...can I be on top?”

There’s a slight furrow in Seokjin’s brows at your request, but he smiles nonetheless, keeping his excitement at bay. “Of course, love. You’re free to sit on your throne anytime.”

He lies back down, both palms out to support you in your task. Gladly placing your hands on him, you crawl back on his lap, moving on your knees to position yourself to impale yourself on his co*ck.

Taking his length in your hand, you languidly swipe the tip against your wet folds. With one final breath, you push downward, sinking down on his co*ck until he’s fully seated inside you. Slowly you start, swiveling your hips just as you were told. Seokjin keeps his gaze at you through hooded eyes – a definite boost of confidence for you.

You settle on a particular rhythm, just gyrating your hips around before it gets too much like you’re almost at that point, but not quite yet. You start alternating by bouncing atop him, while your fingers find your cl*t, rubbing at your nether bud vigorously to push you towards your high.

Seokjin grabs at your breasts, twisting and tweaking your nipples, stimulating you further. He feels you clench around him as you org*sm nears quickly and his balls tighten likewise, painting your velvety walls white as he reaches his climax after you.

You fall to his chest, panting just as heavily as Seokjin. He decides on keeping himself still sheathed inside you for a while longer, reveling in the feeling of his cum dripping out of your puss* and onto his thigh. “The next time you go to Okta, take me with you, alright? I’ll have whatever you had back there.”

© joontier 2020

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Media Evolution and the Changing World

The evolution of media has been a long and winding road, marked with significant milestones that are still being continued. Media and its evolution arose from one of humanity's most pressing needs: to keep informed and connected in ways that were beyond the capabilities of humanistic physical senses. The old media is a more traditional manner of communication through television, radio, newspapers, magazines, and books, whereas the new media is interactive and user-generated, allowing us to communicate with people all over the world. Both ancient and modern media sources can provide audiences with two distinct perspectives on the social, political, and cultural concerns at hand.

The way we consume information has advanced tremendously, resulting in a diverse range of unique communication channels. We are exposed to a variety of perspectives that influence our understanding and knowledge of the social environment, but does this evolution of media affect the way we communicate and transfer information?

From using only the sense of hearing, to cave paintings, to the invention of paper, to the widespread production of newspapers, to the first electronic computers, the use of digital smartphones, and the new ways of transferring information, media and technology have evolved hand in hand. We may not realize it, but we are very auspicious to have the technology we own today, for any information we need and want to know can be acquired in just mere seconds or minutes because of the advancement of technology that we have. We now have access to the internet and various technologies in the modern world. So, whether you're looking for information in print or on the internet, it's only a click away. We can see how far we've moved with the media on a worldwide scale, making media one of the most significant reasons for changing the world.

Traditional media is still widely used in today's modern world, and the advancement of media has helped in the recognition of people throughout history and into the present. Technology helps maintain everything up to date, making work easier and faster while requiring less effort. However, despite today's superior technology, the old form of media has never been forgotten and continues to play a significant role in our lives. This proves that the media has benefited everyone since the beginning. It's essential to understand how previous civilizations were able to effectively communicate and knowledge using whatever resources they had available at that time.

All of this has been taken as proof that the early civilizations had honed the ability to communicate information through writing and drawing on whatever material was available at the time, using their primitive languages. The need for continuous improvement in communication means and processes can be seen in ancient civilizations, and it is something that we may look forward to in the future.

Media is a medium through which information is transmitted from a communicator to information receivers. Media fulfills several roles in society, including entertaining and providing an outlet for the imagination, educating and informing, serving as a public platform for the discussion of significant issues, and acting as a watchdog for government, business, and other institutions. However, one of the disadvantages of the media is that it may readily spread false information, which can lead to hatred, deceive people, and detach people from their lives.

Nowadays, the media has a huge influence on many people's behavior. It takes only a few clicks to transmit information, whether factual or misleading, rumor or gossip. The media has the power to manipulate, influence, convince, and compel society in both positive and harmful ways; mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The evolution of media is one example of how things in the world are constantly being upgraded as time passes. Even though new media makes everything easier for us, including using accessible media, it causes the majority of people to become reliant on it, making traditional media an advantage in communicating with people.

The evolution of media not only allows people to connect effortlessly but also allows individuals to stay informed about societal concerns that are occurring throughout the world. Through the media, individuals can recognize issues and address some of the world's most pressing challenges.

Knowing how media has evolved allows us to better comprehend the past, present, and future. It's fundamental to embrace this evolution since it makes life more interesting, informative, and forward-thinking. In a nutshell, it's about making the world a more connected place. We should always collaborate to create a global learning society that will benefit us all in the future. Moreover, the goal of being able to communicate information and knowledge more efficiently and effectively remains unchanged, as evidenced by the progression of traditional to new media. Let us remember, we were shaped by yesterday, so let us all shape for better tomorrow.

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EDUCATION AS THE PERFECT INSTRUMENT FOR SOCIAL CHANGE

According to international schools in India Social changes can start on an unconscious level, but they can quickly progress to the conscious level. The alterations, on the other hand, do not last for a long period at the unconscious level. They may be launched on an unconscious level, but their approval occurs on a conscious level, and it is only at this level that changes become widely accepted in a group, society, or nation. Education has a dual purpose.

To begin with, it causes the individual to be frustrated with his or her current situation. It trains him to be on the lookout for change, encourages depression, and thus unconsciously prepares people to accept change when it is provided. Second, education does not end with the individual's preparedness for a shift. It also permits an individual to take conscious steps toward bringing about improvements in society.

A number of social reformers, including Raja Ram Mohan Roy, Swami Vivekananda, and Mahatma Gandhi, worked tirelessly at the grassroots level to bring about societal transformation. All of the reformers recognized the importance of a solid educational system in order to keep up with the rapid pace of societal development. A reform movement differs from more radical social movements like revolutions. A reform movement is a type of social movement that aims for gradual change, rather than rapid or fundamental change, in certain aspects of society.

Education serves three purposes in terms of growth and development from a sociological standpoint. For starters, it aids in the preservation of prior work, knowledge, culture, and tradition. Second, it contributes to the transmission of valuable cultural aspects to future generations. Third, it aids in the distribution of fresh knowledge and experience in order to foster new inventions and societal creativity. These three-fold educational initiatives are thereby bringing about necessary societal reforms and controlling undesired aspects. The following are the three functions of education for social change:

PRESERVATION OF SOCIAL HERITAGE

Education is critical for the preservation of society's valuable knowledge and traditions. Young boys and girls attend school to learn to read and write, and while doing so, they get acquainted with the desirable aspects of their social culture. The curriculum for children is constructed in such a way that it incorporates societal knowledge and experience. The teacher's job is to introduce his students to art, science, literature, history, and culture that society has accumulated over time. Any fresh development or progress may be feasible only if the next generation imitates the previous society's thoughts, attitudes, and behavior.

So, from this perspective, education is nothing more than a large-scale imitation process. It is only through such imitation that the desirable components of massive human culture may be preserved and protected.

TRANSMISSION OF DESIRABLE CULTURE

Education is in charge of instilling desired cultural aspects in the minds of future generations. It should be highlighted that the previous culture's social and cultural history is not entirely acceptable to the current society. The younger generation does not wish to practice all that their predecessors did. They only want the beneficial and desirable aspects of ancient civilization and avoid the unfavorable ones.

Education must take careful control of social heritage in this case. It must carefully assess which features or aspects of previous experiences have the potential to help the new generation improve socially. It's worth noting that as society evolves, new dreams, aspirations, and needs emerge in the public consciousness. In light of this, education must be able to actively control, design, and select aspects of social legacy to pass on to future generations.

DISSEMINATION OF NEW KNOWLEDGE

Education is in charge of disseminating new knowledge and experiences in society's minds. Every new civilization brings with it a genius capable of new innovation and invention for the advancement of society. Education should provide those geniuses a new light and a new direction in their minds, allowing fresh thought, ideas, and activities, as well as a new invention, to emerge. Old faith, beliefs, and ways of life are changing as a result of such innovation, and new actions and thoughts are emerging.

There are several examples of this reality throughout history. The extraordinary person with the new society's creative genius provides his unique thinking and ideas for others to follow. Gandhiji, Karl Marx, and other socio-political and religious reformers have all been successful in bringing about social change and growth at different times. As a result, it is clear that education has the ability to distribute new knowledge and ideas in order to promote societal change and progress.

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When I first met my husband, Neal, I thought he was gay. Maybe that's because he told me he was gay. So while I was attracted to him, I figured he would just be my gay best friend. Then, one night, we wound up in bed together, and let's just say that he did not act like a gay best friend usually acts. In fact, he seemed more comfortable with my body than plenty of straight men I'd dated had been. And after a hot-and-heavy weekend, I knew a lot more about Neal than "gay" had hinted at: He'd been married before (to a woman), and he was (still is) attracted to both sexes. Since his divorce he'd mostly dated men, so he'd gone with "gay" over "bi" when we met, but deep down that's what he is: bisexual. I was not entirely surprised, and I was definitely not disappointed.

However, I did have some concerns. Early in our relationship, which got super serious, super fast, I was anxious: I worried Neal would change his mind, say that he was actually truly 100 percent gay after all, and leave me for a man. (Maybe you've heard the joke? A man who says he's bisexual is gay, straight, or lying.) Another part of me worried whether a bisexual guy could ever really be monogamous. Also, didn't being with a man who was interested in men and women mean that I was competing against everyone in the world for his attention?

I just wasn't that familiar with bi guys. Bi women are practically mainstream: Megan Fox, Lady Gaga, Anna Paquin, Jessie J, and Evan Rachel Wood, to name only a few, have all spoken openly about being bisexual. When a woman says she's bi, it makes her more desirable to men. But few celeb men are out as bi—and you never see two guys making out in a bar to get women to pay attention.

Plus, I must admit I wondered whether all the stuff people say about bisexuals might actually turn out to be true—that they're untrustworthy, just going through a phase, or slu*tty; that they'll break your heart or give you STDs and probably cooties too.

Dating a bi guy, even one as great and as honest as Neal, was daunting to think about.

The sliding scale of sexuality explained

Understanding the basic science of bisexuality helped me a lot. Ritch Savin-Williams, professor of developmental psychology at Cornell University, who has done extensive research into arousal patterns of gay and bisexual individuals, puts it simply: "Bisexual men are attracted to both sexes. They have variations in how much they lean toward women or men." It's important to note that Savin-Williams, like most social scientists, differentiates between sexual orientation and sexual behavior. "So a guy could be attracted to 70 percent men and 30 percent women," he says, "but still meet a woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with and be monogamous. His orientation is bi, but his sexual behavior is straight." Conversely, if someone is having sex with both women and men, then he is behaviorally bisexual, regardless of what he says his orientation is.

What many women struggle with is not the fear that a guy is bi but the fear that he's temporarily bi and will eventually identify as gay. It's not a weird thing to worry about (I worried about it!), since many men have done exactly that. "Before hom*osexuality was as accepted as it is now," says Allen Rosenthal, a researcher at Northwestern University, "hom*osexual men often identified as bi in the process of coming out, like getting their feet wet. But it was a disservice to genuinely bisexual men because it left a lot of people with the impression that bi is a transitional orientation." The good news is that the reasons the bi-to-gay move used to be so prevalent—societal and family pressures, fears of being openly gay—are lessening. These days, it's more OK to be gay, and that's making it more OK to be bi. Progress!

So Could You, Should You? We asked glamour.com readers if they'd date a bi guy. The results:

__I'd have a lot of questions,

but maybe.……………………………16%

No way.………………………………..36%

Totally, why not?…………………….48%

In other words, two out of three of you would consider it. Explained one commenter: "If he's into me, he's into me. If he happens to be into guys too, well…we only have more in common!"__

Our little nonsecret

Neal assuaged my anxieties by being so enthusiastic about me that I had no reason to doubt his attraction. I was impressed by his self-awareness too. He realized he was bisexual when he was 20, and he still considers himself attracted to both sexes, at a ratio of about 80:20, women to men. My friends said he was an improvement over more macho guys I'd brought home in the past, and no one really made a big deal about the bi thing. They'd already seen him with men and with women, and we run with a pretty arty crowd. Bottom line: I was in love. As the years passed, I saw that Neal had more integrity and self-knowledge than anyone I'd ever known. And so, reader, I married him. We've been together and monogamous for 12 years, married for eight.

Neal is comfortable with his sexuality. He's "straightish," in the terminology of a gay friend of ours. But he is kind of "gayish" too. He is a performance artist, eccentric, and has—true to stereotype—better style than I do. And if I'm like, "Wow, Mike is superhot," he doesn't stare blankly but says, "Totally. Because of the way he plays guitar, right?"

Generally, we don't tell the world about Neal's orientation (well, until now!). Not everyone is as supportive as our circle, and to be honest, I have zero interest in talking with someone who thinks I'm in a sham marriage just because my guy doesn't go, "Ewww!" when Channing Tatum takes off his shirt.

There have been a few bumps along the road. Early on, Neal confessed that he had a crush on someone else. In the moment before he told me who it was, as my heart sank, I thought: Oh God, it's a man. He's gay. He's going to leave me for a man. I am a fool. How did I not see it coming? How stupid could I be?

Then he told me who it was: a woman. And we worked through it. In retrospect, I think we would have been OK even if it had been a man. In the years since, we've weathered crushes I've developed too, and a million other surprising and not-so-surprising things. I don't think we're any more open-minded than most couples—but the amount of honesty required at the beginning of our relationship has served us well.

Talk, then talk some more

So how do you make it work with a bi guy? "If I were a woman involved with a bisexual man," says Savin-Williams, "I would have very honest communication with him about what he means when he uses the term." Trust me, I asked Neal a lot of questions about what he was into and what to expect as our relationship deepened. Would he commit to monogamy? What kind of boundaries did we need to set up? Be clear about what you're asking, warns Lisa Diamond, professor of developmental psychology at the University of Utah. "The question Are you attracted to men?' is different from Would you want to have a sexual relationship with a man?'" she points out. "Many men might say, It's a hot fantasy, but not one I would act on.'" At that point the question becomes whether or not you're OK with the fantasy. On the other hand, if he says he wants more than a fantasy when it comes to men…then he might not be the guy for you.

No matter whom you're dating, part of love is taking that leap into the unknown. "The only way to be truly sure," says Barbara Hernandez, a family and marriage therapist, "is over time. It depends on the values of the person, and the strength of commitment, and whether both partners work hard at it." Good advice for any couple, even a straight-as-an-arrow one.

At some point, if you're still freaking out about whether your bi guy is really bi, you might need to acknowledge that what you're worried about is whether he's really yours. "We all need to be honest with ourselves," says Diamond. "I wonder if the underlying concern isn't the same one we always have: Does he really want me? Is he going to leave me? That's a concern as old as the hills." With Neal, I came to look at it this way: If he was choosing to be with me, then he was choosing me over all men and women everywhere. And that felt kind of awesome.

Believe it or not, Neal's sexuality doesn't come up that often in our daily lives. My failure to close drawers, his inability to throw anything away, and an ongoing disagreement on who is the more lenient parent are all topics that cause more strife than his sometimes thinking men are hot. Really, who can blame him? Men are hot, especially ones who are honest and confident. Especially ones who, even though they may be attracted to lots of people, pick you.

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Post “crying over how much I love existing” notesapp thoughts:

- We’ve created scales to try and grasp the incomprehensible infinity of information that is the universe but it is nothing more than that. Words, names, numbers, science, art, are just attempts at shrinking the universe into series manageable for our minds.

- Therefore there is no you and me, there is absolutely no separation between every living and non living being on this planet and everything outside of it. “You” and “me” (us, them, it) are the same thing. “I” exist in “you” and vise-versa. More like, there is only a very fragile conceptualized line separating us, and it only exists because we’ve created it.

- The world can be seen in two ways:

- the very simplified (yet complex on its own ways due to it being created by minds affected by different environments) view that is particular societal experience: that is, milestones and things that seem important to us as human beings in a community, mostly pre-determined by ancestors and solidified in media and sharing. For example, in many cultures, it is given great attention to beauty, profit, creation, pleasure, social status, and “leaving a mark”. So much attention, many consider them to be “the purpose of life” or “the reason” we are here.

- Or, the other, almost completely unfathomable way to perceive the universe, in which there is no purpose of life and no reason to be alive at all (but also no reason to be dead. It’s not about being hopeless or sad- it’s about acknowledging that hope and purpose and their opposites are also concepts, creations. Only experienced for a short period of time, while we are human*.) In this outlook, existence has no reason to be, it just is. No need to look for an answer. It is peaceful, and also terrible. It is all things at once. Even things we can’t see.

- * in “while we are human” I don’t speak of reincarnation; there is no known way, at least for now, to see if we truly have a soul that can be passed on through different bodies. However, there is a (more interesting in my opinion) way to see if we continue to exist after death: our organic forms. We may not know if our soul is passed on to new physical beings, but we know our physical form turns into new ones.

- After death, and even during life, our bodies are dispersed in small or big quantities to other parts of our surroundings. Since matter isn’t created or destroyed, but just transformed, we can see how we will become new beings or things. We already have. You and I, are the result of an immeasurable amount of time and transformation. We are only far from the first living thing if we see it through the concept of time. Living things have existed before consciousness. Living things have existed before they (us) knew they were living things.

- If we decide to see transformation from both of these outlooks, we can see how we are not in a loop, definitely not in a state of immortality, and not in a state of a single consciousness passing through time- but we are currently the result of a single universe, sometimes divided into physical beings, adapting to the rest of the universe. Learning, building, carrying new knowledge through generations- realizing it or not.

- To summarize: we existed before we knew it and we will continue to exist when we don’t realize it. Everything is not only connected, but singular. Individuals are an idea.

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Anandibai Gopal Joshi: The First Indian Woman to be A Doctor.

Modern history has its marks, majorly dominated by men. The women were expected to stay at home and take care of the family while males ruled the public world. The domain of medicine was not an exception. The researchers, experiments and developments were strictly reserved for men by men and the closest a woman could accommodate herself where she barely had any rights, was by getting appointed as a nurse. The occupation needed the skills of a caretaker and the stereotypical conditioning of women by the society convinced the male employers of accommodating women in nothing more than a position of a nurse. Slowly the fields of paediatrics, dermatology, obstetrics, gynaecology, which are often considered ‘soft' opened for women MDs (Doctor of Medicine). Fields of cardiothoracic surgery and neurosurgery, often considered ‘complex' where therefore still in hands of men. In the present context of India, where we see most woman with graduation degrees, engaged in unpaid labour, there was a woman who, in 1880s, paved her way to become the first woman to receive an MD in Western medicine.

•A Determined Face Against Social Discrimination:

Anandibai was born in a Maratha landlord household in 1865 in Kalyan, Maharashtra. She got married to Gopalrao Joshi, at the age of 9, who worked as a governmental clerk and was 20 years senior than her. Gopalrao was a fine person, progressive of his times and a supporter of women’s education. Anandibai Joshi gave birth at the age of 14 though the child could breathe only for 10 days due to the dearth of proper medical care. The death of her son made her determined of becoming a physician, so that other women don’t have to face her unfortune. However multiple attempts of enrolment in the missionary schools failed miserably as the places reeked of severe gender discrimination. The couple moved to Calcutta where Anandibai learned to read and write in Sanskrit as well as English. The next step ahead was finding a medical college in the West as she realised, mere knowledge of Ayurveda and midwifery won’t be of much help while handling complicated pregnancies and Indian medical institutes teaching western medicine had closed their doors of acceptance for women.

Thus, a letter stating her ardent desire to pursue a course of medicine and a position for a Gopalrao in US was sent to Royal Wilder, are fairly popular American Missionary. The letter got published in the Princeton’s Missionary Review, where it arrested the attention of Theodisia Carpenter, a New Jersey resident, who decided to come to her aid. Through her, Gopalrao and Anandibai met a physician couple named Thorborns who helped them suggesting Anandibai's college and ensured her arrival in the US.

•Education In The West:

Gopalrao, however couldn’t secure a position for himself in the US, hence Anandibai left India in 1883, accompanied by Thorborns. Reaching there, she wasted no time in applying for enrolment in the Medical program of the Women’s Medical College in Pennsylvania. At the age of 19, she started her medical education and graduated at 21 after receiving an MD in obstetrics. The title for MD thesis was, ‘Obstetrics Among The Aryan Hindoos' where she had incorporated the aspects of both Ayurveda and Western medicine.

Fortunately, Gopalrao could make it to her graduation ceremony. Pandita Ramabai attended the occasion too, where Anandibai was declared to be the first Woman MD from India. She also received a congratulatory message from Queen Victoria, the then empress of India.

•Return to India and Final Days:

The cold weather, lack of proper winter garments, unfamiliar environment and eating habits took a heavy toll on her health. High temperature and cough were her constant companion along with occasional fainting. It was later discovered that she had contracted tuberculosis and was immediately rushed to the Woman’s Hospital in Philadelphia. The doctor there, advised for her return to India. In 1886, the couple left for India and reached the homeland late, that year.

Her homecoming was showered with warm welcomes. The princely state of Kolhapur appointed her as the physician-in-charge of the women's ward in the Albert Edward Hospital. Her health however, still showed signs of deterioration. On February 1887, she passed away. Her demise was mourned by the whole nation and ashes were sent to Theodicia in US, who had them buried in her family cemetery in Poughkeepsie, New York.

•Recognition:

Multiple media houses had adopted her life into movies and serials. A Marathi biopic named ‘Anandi Gopal' released recently in 2019. A Lucknow based NGO named The Institute for Research and Documentation in Social Sciences(IRDS) gives out Anandibai Joshi Award for Medicine. The Government of Maharashtra also established a scholarship of her name, for women working on women's health projects. She also has a crater on Venus, named after her, called ‘Joshee.’

•Legacy:

Anandibai Joshi was one of the foremost pioneers of women’s right to education in a time when women were only supposed to get married and remain confined within societal restrictions. She broke quite a good number of norms, achieved a medical degree from a foreign country and was staunch enough to chase her dreams by not letting the grief of her son's death discourage her determination.

A torch bearer of the movement against patriarchy and backwardness, Anandibai's life encouraged millions of hearts, specially that of the women, to tear down social norms and seek education at par their colonisers. Her firm resolution to achieve something, which even the powerful men of her time didn’t dare to dream of, transformed her life into something much bigger than it would have been, had she stayed within the ‘limits' of a wife and a mother. Her victory thus inspired many generations of women to follow their dreams.

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