#Spark has the worst rage issues
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Time for Yan! Dickie boi with cat villain reader

(go read my other cat villain blurbs/drabbles/headcannons if you havenât!!) (i wonder if i should have a tag for this reader specifically at this point)
As your first Robin, Dick Grayson has a very special place in your heart.
The issue lies in the fact that the area he owned was far too small especially in comparison to his successors.
Whereas Tim was your best friend, Jason was and will be the only Robin you ever truly loved. In a way thatâs unconditional, passionate and most of all relentless.
You thought you loved Dick but you realized soon enough that it was not sparks in your stomach moreso just the thrill and excitement of a âromanceâ with the enemy.
DickâŠ
He never really recovered from your breakup. You were his first love. Sure, he dated other people afterwards but they were mostly in an attempt to move on or ease the pain of your abandonment.
Poor boy blamed himself for not being good enough for you. He didnât know that you were falling for his brother while you were dating and so it was just all so sudden for him. One moment you two were planning to get married and have children, and in the next it was all gone.
Once he finally finds out that it was your fault, I definitely see him rekindling your relationship in the worst ways possible.
It starts out in secret. He recollects all of your little plans together for the future, finally giving into the domestic thoughts that have been so bitter to him ever since you left. He builds a nursery, he places photos of when the two of you were dating (previously torn apart in rage and sadness), and most of all he makes sure that everything is tailored so that when youâre finally back together you wonât ever want to leave.
He hated himself for thinking so, but he felt himself smiling â he was ⊠glad that Jason died that day. And even if Jay was back, you
You start seeing him more often.
In fights, as civilians.
He was always a bit restless around you after the breakup but now he was back to being as confident and cocky as ever.
You were happy for him, but also much too preoccupied by what Jason was asking you to do (read drabble)
That made capturing you all the more easy.
âHere now, kitty kitty. Back home where you belong.â
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere dick grayson#dick grayson#yandere dick grayson x reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#tw yandere#yanderecore#dick grayson x reader#batfam#yandere batfam#yandere batfam x reader#dc#yandere dc#yandere dc x reader#yandere nightwing x reader#robin#robin x reader#yandere robin x reader
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thinking about killer x victim yuri again
(specifically, this was originally a followup to this post, but i spend so long in the lead up that it's pretty much its own thing)
imagine they went to school together.
one was a rich girl, with so many friends and connections and opportunities. she knew exactly the right words to charm all the people in her life, and she works hard for their approval - everyone has high expectations from her. she has perfect grades and attendance, membership in four different after school clubs, and the worst the rumor meal can say about her is wondering when the hell she sleeps - because of course, she studies gossip and popularity like it's a class its own.
the other girl... was not. the poverty line was the roof over her head. she had attention problems, trouble fitting in, and a keen sense of how much she was looked down on, ignored, routinely denied. and she hated it. she'd raise her voice, she'd lash out, she'd cause any amount of trouble if it meant they'd shut up and get out of her way. behavioral anger issues, they called it. her academic record is littered with suspensions, expulsions, a brief stint in a correctional facility. all throughout, though, she had potential, and a couple teachers even saw it. sparks of something more than a hopeless delinquent.
so here and there, there's extra chances, leniency, several half-pleading half-condescending talking-tos imploring her to change. and... eventually she does. maybe the fight gets beaten down, maybe the prefrontal cortex develops, but the rage becomes restraint, all her old impulses rerouted behind a mask. so she gets transferred to a new campus, a kind of sponsorship with a special arrangement; it's hers as long as she keeps her behavior and and grades on the up and up.
maybe she tries to stay quiet about her past, but the other students quickly notice how she regularly meets with a counselors and officers. maybe one girl had been in a previous school she'd gotten kicked out of, back before she'd gotten her act together. it starts as a small rumor, but it sticks and grows into a suffocating cloud that hangs around her. that girl is trouble; nobody wants to associate with her.
the isolation, the whispers whenever she steps into a room, it puts a hitch in her efforts. her detractors get bolder; her treatment verges on harassment. it might be the most infuriating thing she'd endured in her life - she'd done everything right. her grades start to tank, that goes without saying. she needs help, she needs support. is there anyone she can study with?
she feels contempt and revulsion - and it's mutual - for everyone she shares classes with. even the ones not sneaking sneering glances and muttered words, were doing even worse than her academically; pathetic and not worth her time.
but there was one exception. one girl who was the top of every class, of whom no one, not even the the most cynical of them all, had a negative word to say. she was always kind, always thoughtful, and the outcast had never seen that girl be complicit in her treatment, even when all her friends joined in. if anyone might be willing to study with her, that girl seemed like her only hope.
(and she was, undeniably, pretty cute)
it takes a while to work up the courage and find an actual opportunity - the top student had a busy schedule. but the outcast finally gets her alone, asks her for help studying.
but again, the top student has a busy schedule. is she expected to find even more time to spend with this failing student? still, she's always kind, so she finds the words to gently refuse her. too gentle - the excuses, the seeming reluctance, it gives the impression that the answer isn't no, it's maybe, just not right now. so perhaps if the outcasts insists, if she argues against the excuses, then the other girl would be willing. they circle around each other like this for a bit, polite refusal and insistent rebuttal. couldn't she take a hint?
she's busy. all of the work she does for school and extracurriculars, all of the people she has to micromanage and keep happy - she simply does not have time to deal with this girl on top of that. and yet, it's more than just studying the outcast is really after. it's a lifeline, a person who doesn't hate them for no reason. she needs that. neither of them can say aloud what's really motivating them, though.
does the outcast need to study with the top student, though? surely there are remedial classes to take. and the outcast bristles at the suggestion. she isn't stupid. none of the people in those classes would be worth her time. really, none of the people in this school are worth her time, except you.
and that is what makes the top student bristle. all of the work she does day after day, and it's what, the bare minimum to make her worth the time of this nobody? who does she think she is?
honestly, with how hard this girl pushes herself, it's a wonder the top student didn't snap sooner. and if there was ever a perfect time to lose control, chewing out a girl with no friends while the two of them are alone was it.
the outcast is seething - but she had long learned to hold hat in. take a deep breath, remove yourself from the situation - she storms out of the room, runs back to her dorm, and smashes her desk. that should have been the end of it. she takes a shower to relax, but even as she lay under the water, the conversation's stuck in her head, all the things she said, all the things she could have said.
and again: when she's lying in bed, trying to sleep, she's instead thinking about her, and how infuriating that argument was. if she had the time to compose all her words perfectly, how satisfying would it be to tear apart everything she said?
the top student is thinking about that encounter too, but her ruminations are different. she's stuck thinking about how great it felt. all of the expectations, all of the rules, but just once, she could say fuck it, let loose and hurt someone. she... she needed that.
so days later, when they cross paths again, when they stop and stare at each other - the top student doesn't apologize. she should, she didn't really mean it, she really shouldn't talk to anyone like that - but instead when she opens her mouth, she twists the knife, doubles down, and watches how red in the face the other girl gets, holds back a laugh at the sputtered response.
the top student doesn't have time for more studying, but she does have time for more of this - hunting through the halls to find that girl, and tormenting her with quick insults and insinuations. it should have gotten old, she should have gotten bored of it - but it only escalated. the outcast didn't just take it, and she didn't run away, she met every barb with invective of her own. soon they're screaming and hissing in each other's face.
whatever argument they had should have ran its course after the first meeting or two. instead, it develops into a kind of violent smalltalk. they'll talk about their days, and the other will berate them for it. the top student vents about her latest frustrations, and the outcast exclaims how much she doesn't care about how hard her perfect life is. every hardship is promptly cheered or demeaned.
it's a few sessions of this before the outcast grabs her. she's bigger, stronger, she's been in fights. the top student becomes suddenly aware that she's shorter - that none of her extracurriculars were athletic.
the spell lasts a second - then, with sudden realization of what she was doing, the outcast lets go of her and runs off. she doesn't leave her room the next day; she's sure that the other girl is going to report her, her streak of compliant behavior was over, and they'd take her back to correction
and... it doesn't happen. she still has to go to class, and when she does, she crosses paths with her at their usual spot. and the shorter girl snarks at her without missing a beat, as if nothing had happened. if anything, she's more brazen, as if daring her to do it again. she's the first to lean into the other girl's face, closer than they'd ever gotten in their shouting matches.
it's too close, and the outcast pushes her back. and she just laughs, and steps right back. shoved back, again. and she steps back again. that's when she's grabbed, a bruising grip, and forced back. don't make me do this, the outcast says, leaving again - hearing taunts behind her.
again, no reports. they meet again, and the girl flinches but never cries foul. sometimes she tries to yank her hands free, step back from the girl looming over her, but if the outcast tries, it's not hard to pin her down and shut her up with a hand over her mouth.
she can't deny that it feels great. so long bottling everything up - and now she can exert power without fearing a reprisal.
their meetings tend to end the same way, now - the top student tries, but this is one area where she can never seem to excel. she throws the first punch, but the outcast hits harder. and once they're outright fighting... the outcast pulls her hair, bites her arms, strangles her till she's blue in the face. the outcast is sure she's pushed to far then. but the top student just wears a scarf to hide the mark.
still, that's what spooks her into pulling back. if it goes much farther, the evidence is going to become unignorable. avoiding the top student... isn't very successful. she lays in ambush in the halls, and even when the outcast steps up her stealth, she can just get other students to report on her whereabouts; she still has friends everywhere. the outcast can't escape her - and it's driving her past her limit. so she decides to escalate farther, finally scare the other girl into stopping.
the next time they fight, the outcast brings something new. unseen until she reaches for the other girl's throat, and her perfect skin splits open - a knife. she lifts the blade and a droplet of blood slides along its length.
pretty, isn't it? prettier than you are. you'd be so much more beautiful if i let it all flow out. the outcast gives her best impression of a unhinged smile. she has to make herself look dangerous. she licks the bloody drop, and then lowers the knife, watching how the wide eyes of the top student follow it intently.
she's utterly silent - few things have shut her up as effectively, her body trembling under the outcast's weight.
i'll give you a chance to start running, she says as she gets off her. but the top student doesn't get up till she gets a kick to the side. she runs off, and when she's gone, the outcast breathes a sigh of relief. she really hope that sends the message, and this wouldn't have to go any farther
because she enjoyed that. she wants to go farther.
the next day, the top student looks sleepless and shaken. it's enough to have multiple people asking her what's wrong. but she still keeps quiet.
the outcast waits in the usual spot, and it seems her first stroke of luck that the other girl doesn't show up. had her intimidation worked?
but no, she's just late, like she was late to class.
i-i... she starts, and finally overcomes the stutter: i need you to do it.
what?
the knife. use it, please. i - all day, ever since you drew my blood, i can't think about anything else. all my life, it's been constant expectations and demands, try harder, push farther, please everyone. every hour of the day, it feels like a chorus ordering me around. i have to do everything right - except you. because you... you're nothing, you don't matter. i could do anything, i could do all the wrong things, it was... it wasn't good - obviously, you were there. but in spite of you, i enjoyed this. and then... and then you brought a knife, and- it felt like all of a sudden, the chorus went dead silent. all of the anxiety, everything it felt like i had to do, it meant nothing. you were going to kill me. i couldn't focus on anything else. even after i ran away, i kept thinking about you, about that knife, and... how can i care about school, or practice, or who's dating who when... i finally know what i feels like to be alive. and i, need to feel it again. so you're going to do it again.
you want me to stab you... because you're into it? no. even if i was a prostitute, i wouldn't get you off for free.
ugh, but i knew you'd be difficult. you're so stupid - don't you get that you are the one at my mercy here? the second i tell anyone about what you've done... it's over. i have photos, recordings, i have bruises! you're a monster, i can prove it, and i'm going to get you taken away - there's only one way to keep me quiet.
and if i call your bluff?
can you afford to risk it?
fine. but tell me: how long?
how long?
how long have you been getting off to this? how long have you been in love with me?
i'm not - i hate you! you're insufferable. love? was it love when you punched me so hard i spat up blood?
we meet every day in private to lay on top of each other. i can't believe i didn't see it sooner.
don't gloss over the part where you scream and hit me - that isn't romance. maybe i felt something else, maybe i wanted, desperately, to feel something else, but every time, before i could say anything you ran your mouth and stomped all over it. no wonder you're alone.
shut up. by now, the outcast was looming over her - she had the knife out, and thrust it up. cold against an artery, but that was it. she says, is this enough for you?
even you must be smart enough to know how to use that thing. what are you waiting for?
even a bitch like you deserves to live - you said this made you feel alive. well? has this done it for you?
have you ever tried to die? sometimes, when you're staring down the end, you get a surge of energy, a survival instinct, the will to live. but. that's just stupid animal instinct. because intellectually, what is there to live for? more work? remember what you said, yesterday? how pretty my blood was? but it's only pretty outside of my body. i think, life is the same way. it's most beautiful when it's like a flash of lightning in a dark, dark sky. screaming loud one moment, then nothing left but an afterimage. and don't i have a spark?
there's a last glint of light on the blade of the knife before it's all in the shadow of her neck. she's crying out, but then the other girl's hands jammed in her mouth quiets that.
is this really it? everyone said you had so much potential, that you were destined for such great things. and here you are, giving up the first chance you get, throwing it all away for a brief thrill. you could be anything, but in the end, all you want is to be a pretty red stain.
there's tears in the smaller girl's eyes, staring up at the scowl of the outcast. the knife is pulled away, the perfect skin of her throat yet unslit, a steady knife-gripping hand lowering.
then the outcast says, but you asked for this. at least it's going to hurt. you deserve this.
wait, says the top student, before you do it - i've never kissed anyone. i don't want to die like that.
i don't care-
but she had to open her mouth in order to say that, and the other girl lunges forward to take advantage, lips brushing against lips, but it's far too haphazard an action to form a seal.
that same lunge drives the knife shallowly into her chest. she cries out from the pain. not loud, but any louder and they'd attract attention.
shut up, she hisses. she needs her to be quiet, so she makes her quiet: closing her mouth around the other's girls, swallowing her screams as she drives the knife deeper in.
she's couldn't have used her hands for this; one is holding the knife, the other trapping writhing arms behind the other girl's back.
it's a scream, it's a moan, it's pleading words babbling demands. it's an expression of everything she feels for the outcast: raw and painful and all-consuming contradiction.
it's intense. the most intense thing she's ever felt. all of the anxiety's gone now, pain purifying her thoughts of anything else. all of the stress flows out of her with the blood.
she is penetrated, a knife in her breast, a tongue in her mouth. she can't bite down on it, because her tongue has been pulled forth, held in the other girls teeth - she'd be biting the both of them. she can only let the other girl enter and fill her on two levels - three, if you count the way thoughts of the other girl had distracted and obsessed a mind once so focused on her schoolwork, now corrupted into chasing the high of her loathsome presence.
her panicked eyes are wide open, watching her killer watch her die. as she drains away, she cant escape the question. is this what she wanted? to be nothing but a pretty stain for her? that bitch? did she want her to win?
she runs out of air to scream. she has to suck in what breath she can get through her nose, but before the screams come, she giggles. she remembers something the outcast said, back when the worst they did was wrestle.
don't make me do this.
she had made her do this, hadn't she?
so if anyone was winning here, it was her. and her prize was-
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Brutally honest thoughts on each character?
...*Each* character???? bruh thats so many, okay ill keep this short cuz im waiting for a haircut rn
well start with the vks cuz thats easy
Mal-started off strong and then just became...THE WORST, love hate relationship for her. shes my art block fix but also i hate her
Jay-i dont have strong opinions on him, he actually never stuck out to me other than 'obligatory jock dude of the friend group.' i wish i liked him more but im more attached to his fandom self over canon Jay
Evie-got boring after D1, i wish they let her keep her chemistry stuff, love her vibe but shes kinda boring to me. SHOULD'VE BEEN THE MC OVER MAL!!
Carlos- lots of lost potential with his tech stuff from the first book and movie. easily could've been an engineer or inventor but they just made him an animal lover and i got bored of that real quick.
Uma-my queen, my idol, can do no wrong i love her so much i WILL kill for her.
Harry-i love his dumbass so much YALL DONY EVEN KNOW I WANNA BITE HIM SO BAD
Gil-one of the few characters i felt actually...grew up? idk but hes one of the few characters were it actually feels like time passed for.
Dizzy-oooooooh honey, honey honey, sunshine baby, please, put the glue gun down.
Celia- they should've gone with her trailer persona. Her outfits are so bad and i wish she got better writing and designs, so much lost potential, also she should've been Jays pick.
Smee twins- why the fuck are they even here they had one line and no significance. also they should've had a Harry scene.
Aks
Ben-puppy boy, deserved to have doberman energy. got turned into a doormat by the writers and is unfairly hated.
Audrey-bitch queen, shes not a nice person and thats okay~ girlboss.
Chad- should've been the D3 villan they had that all set up in D2 with his weird ass attitude over Ben getting kidnapped on the isle.
Doug -....honestly gives me the ick, especially in D3, i HATE the long hair his actor had/has. gold is NOT his color and neither is pastel purple or green. he looked good in D1 but ICK for 2 and 3.
Jane- bby gurl, blue bird sweetheart. yeah she did some fucked up shit in D1 but she was an insecure 14 year old girl who got manipulated by Mal and other aks!!!
Lonnie- deserved so much better, shes Chinese why is she getting Japanese style stuff?!?! her plot in D2 didnt even do anything it just happened and no one cared and Jay just shoved his problems of girls playing roar onto her.
Beast- *inhale* i wanna kick his ass, and i could, lemme at him. how dare he force an entire kingdom on Ben at 16 when he didnt become king when he was 28(when he married Belle)
Belle- they took away her backbone, shes not Disney princess book worm and independent Belle. she just, lost the spark
FG- they turned her into a preschool teacher, GIVE ME MY OL COOKY FAIRY LADY BACK
Leah- *seething rage*
vk parents
Maleficent- fuckin love her, shes such a manipulative bitch and feels like a gone crazy version of a Maleficent made for kids. def not the mistress of all Evil but i love her nonetheless
EQ- shouldve been the head villain, SHE WAS THE FIRST DISNEY VILLAIN CMON! def not the same character from the animated movie but shes dramatic and sassy and i adore her.
Jafar- haha funny characature~ i wish he was more menacing like he had been. Jafar is not one of my fav villains so descendants jafar didnt exactly translate for me well.
Cruella- yeah they nailed her, no complaints about her. good design, good dialogue, good acting.
Hades- LEMME KICK HIS DEAD BEAT ASS, fucking 'daddy issues made you stronger' my butt. i hate his hair and honestly he doesnt fit the washed up punk design, he didnt deserve the speech at the end and didnt deserve to be forgiven by Mal.
Ursula- we only saw her tentacle and one line but she seemed spot on so yeah
Lady Tremaine- why the fuck was she nice in D3??? bitch is the EVIL stepmother.
Smee- spot on, i have words for his sons designs becuaee hes old not naturally white haired but hes chill, makes sense hed be a good parent, he never felt evil to me, just compliant
Facilier- such a vibe, his actor got him spot on, would've changed up his suit design but hes chill and i can see him being a family man(ignoring wicked world).
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Hey, Jigen...
Jigen is already standing in wait when the door swings open, but a guard doesn't come through. Instead, a limp form is tossed into the cell and hits the floor hard with a pained moan. Then the door slams shut again.
The split second of brightness destroyed Jigen's adjustment to the pitch black within the confines of his little domicile, so he cautiously approaches the area where the person is laying.
"You alright, kid?" He snaps gruffly, his voice a little deeper than it naturally is.
He inches closer, but quickly pulls back when his foot lands in a puddle that wasn't there before and nearly slips out from under him.
"The hell?" He grumbles, crouching and squinting down at the mysterious liquid.
His new cell mate shifts ever so slightly, and the whispered words they speak hit him at the same time as the smell of blood.
"Hey, Jigen..."
Without a word, Jigen leaps into action, feeling around until he's fully located Lupin, then taking him under the shoulders, and quickly dragging him to the back of cell, leaning him against the wall.
"You idiot." He hisses, but it's dripping with worry instead of venom.
Kneeling down and feeling Lupin's torso, he turns the attempted response into a yelp of agony as his hand presses into the stab wound on the thief's side.Â
Emotions aren't typically an issue for Jigen, but he has to force down the boiling rage he's feeling in this moment to focus on searching for further injuries.Â
"Talk." He murmurs, cringing apologetically as his fingers drag against another gash, drawing a tortured gasp from Lupin.
He can hear the thief swallow hard, each breath hissing between clenched teeth as he struggles to speak.
"Fujiko and Goemon?"
Jigen shakes his head, stripping the thief of his suit jacket and button up.
"I know they're alive, but that's it. No one's talked to me since they decided I didn't know where you were."
He can see significantly better now, but it's not a pretty sight.
Lupin's awfully banged up, bruises litter his face and torso, and there's three stab wounds oozing blood onto Jigen's admittedly shaky hands. They've been through stuff like this before, but it's more stressful without proper supplies or lighting, and most importantly when they still aren't safe from the party responsible.Â
"What about y-you?" Lupin gasps.
Jigen says nothing, takes note of the positioning of the injuries first; one just beneath Lupin's ribs, the other just above his hip, and the last one, the worst one, strategically placed at his side, where there's little chance of having hit anything vital.
It's broader than the other two, gaping open in a way that tells Jigen that the attacker kept twisting the knife.
Gritting his teeth so hard he can almost taste sparks, Jigen takes Lupin's tattered shirt, and folds it up, pressing it against the three wounds. Lupin growls, unconsciously trying to pull away.
Jigen scooches closer to him, putting an arm around Lupin's waist to keep him close, and holding the shirt tightly against the thief.
Blood is quickly dampening the fabric, but the bleeding looks to be slowing down at least.
"You've got to have something on you." Jigen huffs. "A pin, or something I can use to stitch these up."
Lupin frowns, his head lolling against Jigen's shoulder.
"Nothin'. They s-searched...every inch of me."
His whole body seizes with the effort of trying to laugh. He quickly stops trying.
And now he's just laying there, limp against Jigen and uncomfortably silent.Â
Jigen swallows hard, biting back the urge to try and kick down the door, because for that, he'd have to get up, and leave Lupin bleeding alone.
"What did they want?" He growls.
Lupin looks up at him, searching his expression. Jigen refuses to meet his eyes.
"Whatever it was we were looking for, I can't remember." Lupin stops to cough, and Jigen wipes away the blood at the corner of his mouth.Â
Giving a shuddering sigh, Lupin continues. "I wouldn't have told them even if I knew. 'S never worth it."
Sighing, he tried to move closer to Jigen, trembling all the while.
Jigen stopped him entirely, then carefully took him by the shoulders and lay him back, resting the man's head in his lap.
He refolded the shirt and pressed it neatly back to Lupin's side, his other hand gently running through Lupin's hair.
He looked down at his beloved thief with somber eyes.Â
Perhaps Lupin might have joked about the intimacy of it all, but he was just..tired. So tired.Â
His whole body ached, but it hurt less when Jigen's rough hands coddled him so gently. He closed his eyes, preening under the affection.
"I'm gonna fix this, Jigen." He whispered hoarsely. "And then all four of us are gonna go to a stupidly expensive hotel, stuff our faces like we'll never see food again, and just...sleep. All in one big bed, cuddling like puppies."
He had a stupid, pained grin on his face, and thankfully he couldn't see the equally goofy smile his partner wore.
"Sound good?" He wheezed.
"Throw in a pack of cigarettes and I'm in." Jigen chuckled.
Lupin nodded weakly, still smiling.Â
"Biggest pack of cigarettes you've ever fuckin' seen, marksman.
"I'm looking forward to it, thief."
#Snippet from a heist gone wrong fic I'm writing#Don't ask me when it will be posted because I will cry#lupin iii#jigen daisuke#jiglup#adhdfinest writes#facelessfinest writes#facelessfinest#angst#hurt/comfort#jiglup angst#lupjig
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Hi, Lee!! I'm here because of curiosity đ.
In your reblog you said you thought about their (Aurora and Luca) zodiac signs! And I think it's really interesting because I never thought about it! What you can tell me (us) about it? If you want, of course!!
Tysm for the ask, Flor! I've spent too much time on this, but it was so much fun! For anyone curious, Aurora and Luca are from my series My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars.
Luca and Aurora's Zodiac Signs


Aurora's birthday is June 20 which makes her a Gemini/Cancer cusp (more on that in a bit). Gemini is an air sign represented by twins. While Aurora's enemies might see her as "two faced," always concealing a hidden agenda, she's actually quite versatile as she's able to see an issue from both sides at once. As an air sign, she's clever and curious as well as extremely communicative.
Being born on the cusp of Cancer makes it easy for her to express her emotions well and she knows what she wants. Always sensitive to the needs of others, she can also pinpoint what her opponent desires and negotiate to that end. She's a social butterfly who gets on with anyone and tends to forgive easily. However, it can also leave her vulnerable to the words and actions of those closest to her, creating horrible melancholy.
Luca's birthday is July 25 which makes him a Leo. Leo is a fire sign represented by the mighty lion. He is fearless in the face of danger and fiercely protective of those around him. Rarely acknowledging defeat, his ambition knows no limits. It's this determination that makes him successful. However, his pride often sabotages his happiness.
He has a dominating personality that often manifests itself in arrogant and egotistical behavior. He was born on the feast day of St. Christopher, patron saint of travelers and children-and known to protect. (In my AU it is his middle name for this reason.) When Luca was young his parents lived modestly so he pretended the celebration was for him. As he grew up, he internalized the belief that he too was a mighty protector of men.
Compatibility: While Geminis and Leos normally support each other's ambitions and spark one other's sense of flirtatiousness and fun, Aurora and Luca's personalities clash in the worst possible ways. In their case Aurora's air seems to feed Luca's fire a bit too much, causing a raging bonfire that flames out of control. Luca goes from protective to possessive and Aurora's nurturing morphs into enabling.
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The war raging between Israel and Hamas is horrifying much of the world, but European left-wing leaders have an extra reason to wish for the bloodshed to come to an end as soon as possible: The conflict is proving a political hot potato thatâs exacerbating internal rifts, jeopardizing already fragile alliances, and threatening to exact a heavy price in the next elections.
With the progressive electorate torn between shock at the slaughter of 1,400 people by Hamas militants inside Israel in early Octoberâthe worst single-day massacre of Jews since the Holocaustâand outrage at the killing of thousands of Palestinian civilians by Israeli airstrikes on the Gaza Strip, in countries like France, Britain, and Spain, left-wing parties find themselves mired in damaging rows over how to qualify Hamasâs actions and how forceful Israel is entitled to be in its military response.
The conflict âis highlighting the differences between the radical left and the social democrats,â said Luc Rouban, a political scientist from Sciences Po university in Paris. âItâs blowing up the left,â he said.
Nowhere are progressives as divided over the issue as in France. There, the far-left France Unbowed, which last year formed an uneasy coalition with more moderate (and much smaller) parties such as the Socialists and the Greens, infuriated its allies when it qualified Hamasâs attack as an âarmed offensive,â talking about âwar crimesâ committed by the militants but refusing to describe the Islamist group as a terror organization. Then, as the death toll in Gaza continued to mount, France Unbowed leader Jean-Luc MĂ©lenchon sparked more backlash by using what many saw as subtly antisemitic languageâin a country that since the beginning of the conflict has experienced an explosion of antisemitic acts, with over a thousand offenses and hundreds of arrests. MĂ©lenchon strongly rejected the accusations, but as a result of these rows the left-wing alliance has been put on hold, with few believing it can be revived.
MĂ©lenchon is seeking to reinforce his image as the standard bearer for the oppressed, with an eye on Franceâs large, and often poor, Muslim population, Rouban said. But in reality, France Unbowed âis cornering itself into the periphery of the political field, [coming across as] a radicalized group that doesnât hesitate to engage in all sorts of provocations,â he said. Polls suggest MĂ©lenchonâs popularity is in free fall. âI donât see how he can still hope to win a presidential election after this,â Rouban said.
France is hardly the only place where the left is in trouble. In Britain, Labour leader Keir Starmer ruffled feathers within his own party when he said that Israel had the right to withhold electricity and water from Gaza as part of its response to Hamasâs assault. One month into Israelâs relentless bombing campaign, Starmer is calling for temporary humanitarian pauses, but heâs still not backing a long-term cease-fire, arguing that it would âemboldenâ Hamas. Senior Labour figures have openly challenged Starmer over what they see as an excessively pro-Israel position, with dozens of Labour city councilors resigning over the issue.
Starmerâs stance partly has to do with the scars left by the antisemitism scandals that plagued Labour a few years ago. Starmer has long presented himself as an unequivocal friend of Israel and sought to underscore a difference between himself and his predecessor, Jeremy Corbyn, who was widely accused of not doing enough to tackle antisemitism in the party. Now, he needs to remain coherent with that image, said Richard Johnson, a senior lecturer at Queen Mary University of London.
But with Muslims living in Britain being 14 times as numerous as Jews, Starmerâs defense of Israel also brings âa certain amount of electoral peril for Labour,â Johnson said. In recent weeks, Britain has seen some of the largest pro-Palestinian rallies in Europe, with tens of thousands of people taking to the streets again on Saturday to demand an end to the bombardment of Gaza.
In Spain, meanwhile, socialist Prime Minister Pedro SĂĄnchez had to leap into damage control after one of his ministers, the leader of the far-left Podemos party, Ione Belarra, said Israelâs military campaign amounted to âgenocideâ; its prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, should be prosecuted for war crimes; and Spain should cut diplomatic ties with the country and impose economic sanctions. The remarks sparked a furious reaction by the Israeli Embassy in Madrid, forcing the Spanish Foreign Ministry to clarify that Belarra does not express the governmentâs official views on foreign policy and that Spain recognizes Israelâs right to defend itself within the limits of international law.
The row came at a delicate moment for SĂĄnchez, who is struggling to put together a coalition large enough to continue to govern following inconclusive elections in July. âI donât think you can find any members of government in other EU countries who say what Podemos is saying about Israel,â said JosĂ© Ignacio Torreblanca, the head of the European Council on Foreign Relationsâ Madrid bureau. âItâs a very uncomfortable position for SĂĄnchez,â he said.
And itâs not just Europe. U.S. President Joe Biden, who has expressed strong support for Israelâs campaign to crush Hamas, is also walking a tightrope, with liberal members of his own Democratic Party and Muslim Democratic voters demanding a cease-fire and polls showing his popularity among Arab Americans already dwindling. The administrationâs stance has also stoked unease and sharp dissent from the diplomatic corps. In recent days, Biden started calling for brief humanitarian pauses in Israelâs military operation, but Netanyahu has so far resisted the pressure.
To be sure, the war between Israel and Hamas isnât fracturing the left everywhere. In Germany, Die Linke, which belongs to the same group as France Unbowed in the European Parliament, unequivocally condemned âHamasâs awful terror attacks,â largely aligning itself with both the center-left coalition in power and the conservative opposition in Berlin.
Even where rifts are running deep, they may be a lesser problem than they seem. In Britain, with the exception of more than a dozen Muslim-heavy constituencies, âthe calculation of the Labour leaderâs office is that this is not going to be a major issue in the next election,â Johnson said.
In Spain, Podemos has long sparred with SĂĄnchez over foreign-policy issues, such as the supply of military aid to Ukraine, but so far it has been loath to trigger a government crisis over those disagreements. âThey bark a lot, but I donât think they bite,â Torreblanca said.
But the war isnât only dividing the left; itâs also emboldening the right. Nationalist leaders across Europe are referring to Hamasâs brutality to back up their hard-line views on Islam and immigration at home, while playing up their opponentsâ ambiguities and boosting their own credentials as government material.
Spanish far-right leader Santiago Abascal is keen to paint the image of a government besieged by leftist radicals, while at a rally for âWestern values and Israelâs existenceâ held in Milan over the weekend, Matteo Salvini, the deputy of Italyâs post-fascist prime minister, Giorgia Meloni, lashed out at âconfusedâ left-wingers who âdefend the terrorists.â In France, Marine Le Penâs far-right National Rally has been quick to express support for Israelâs military campaign, using the crisis to further distance itself from its own antisemitic pastâembodied by founder Jean-Marie Le Pen, Marineâs father, who famously claimed that the gas chambers were a âdetailâ of history.
While left-wing firebrand MĂ©lenchon is trapped in his role of maverick, National Rally has taken another major step toward ânormalization,â according to Rouban. âThere used to be two populisms in France. Now thereâs only one, and itâs on the left,â he said.
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I have been observing the whole mess down in Israel right now over the past few weeks and have been reluctant to share my thoughts here considering how my thoughts will likely get me branded as pro genocide by the internet hive mind, but I feel I need to get this off my chest now.
Do I acknowledge Bibi is a piece of garbage who played a large part in sparking this conflict and making things worse? Yes.
Do I recognize that Hamas is a terrorist group that is basically the reason why its practically impossible for there to be any true peace between Israel and Palestine? Also yes.
Calling out Hamas for the shit they have done does not make one pro genocide. It's frankly been infuriating seeing how people seem to gloss over the fact that Hamas has no issue with using their own civilians as literal meat shields or how they have been hording stockpiles of fuel and supplies in their underground tunnels. There are people who really want to leave but can't simply because Hamas won't allow it.
The problem is a lot of these people you see online screaming free Palestine probably never even heard of Gaza up until now nor would they be able to actually locate it on a map if they tried. It's basically East Palestine all over again with bad faith actors capitalizing on the conflict for easy clout or closet right wingers looking for a convenient excuse to bash Biden only it's 100x worse.
It's been quite depressing really how this conflict has ended up exposing a lot of people on the left as raging anti semites. People can scream how this will haunt Biden in 2024 all they want but frankly I would say this has probably done more damage to the left wing movement than Biden's reelection prospects. The hard truth is a majority of Americans think Biden is doing the right thing with Israel and see Hamas as the one most to blame. There is a reason why supporting Israel often falls within America's own interests especially considering they are our closest ally in the middle east. Tearing down posters of Jewish kidnapping victims doesn't make one pro Palestine. It's also quite telling how a lot of these anti-Israel protesters apparently get mad very quick when you point out that Hamas are in fact terrorists.

Those who demand a ceasefire between Israel and Gaza are not serious about actual peace in the middle east and/or are woefully ignorant of the reality of the situation. If you honestly expect Israel after suffering one of the worst terror attacks it has seen in decades to suddenly agree to a ceasefire with a Terrorist group that has openly called for the eradication of all Jews which they will likely violate just like they did with the last ceasefire that was brokered by Egypt, then I got a magic bridge to sell you. A ceasefire at this point is basically the equivalent of slapping a band aid on an open wound and the only one who really benefits from it is Hamas since it grants them time to rearm and regroup.
Just suddenly barging into a neighboring country and indiscriminately kidnapping, killing and beheading adults, children, and babies is not liberation. Mind you it was not just jews but also Arabs, Muslims, Ethiopians, African Guest Workers among others that were among the 1400 needlessly executed by Hamas on that day. I also will remind people there are innocent nationals including Americans that are being held hostage right now so no it's not just Jews that are suffering.
And I just would like to give a shout out to Biden here. I don't he is getting nearly enough credit for the fact that he might be the one person that is seriously preventing this conflict from spilling out into the rest of the Middle East. And this is on top of pushing for more humanitarian assistance to Gaza residents as well as pressuring Israel to hold off on a ground invasion and working to open humanitarian corridors. I find it ironic how people can scream Joe Biden is pro Genocide when he has probably been one of the most pro Palestine presidents seen in decades.
War sucks all around that's a fact and its even more frustrating in this day and age with places like Twitter having become certified disinformation cesspits. As the old saying goes truth is often the first casualty in war.
And perhaps a bit of advice if you are looking for reliable news sources right now on Israel and Palestine. I would probably avoid Twitter and TikTok like the plague.
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After all has been said and done, thereâs one thing that evades her still.
(That is a lie, actually â there are several many things that are beyond Shuriâs understanding, after all this time â but one stands out quite clearly from the rest.)
Itâs the issue of his dead motherâs bracelet. Offered up at the time without conditions or hesitations, as if it were merely a gift between close friends. Critical, later, to accelerating her very defeat of him.Â
It doesn't make sense.Â
Sheâs played the moment back in her own head a million times: the warmth and quiet steadiness of his voice, rough hands surprisingly gentle as heâd tied the beads against her wrist.
It was not like him. To take such a large, unsubstantiated risk with a complete stranger.
The more she thinks about it, the more it frustrates her. It goes against everything else she knows about him. Has learned about him, since.
But tonight is not the right moment for it. So she frowns and pushes the thought away, for the time being.Â
There is a time for everything, in her mind â a time for thinking and questioning, for mourning and praying.Â
For now, however â there is simply too much else to be done.
So during her waking hours, she keeps her questions at bay. At night, however, everything sheâs been pushing down re-emerges.
Namor, of course, appears in her dreams and nightmares both.
When sheâs lucky, she remembers the worst of it: remembers his bitterness and rage, the way he'd taken her family and her home and destroyed it, without any mercy.
When sheâs unlucky, however, she remembers the best of it: remembers the kindness he'd first treated her with, the way he'd shown her the beauty of his kingdom, the way he'd looked at her when he'd told her about his past.Â
No matter which way her mind goes, it always ends the same way: she wakes up breathing hard and covered in sweat. Feeling the all-consuming currents of anger or despair or hope, exactly as she had felt them in those moments.Â
(Memories of his eyes, his face, his form remain imprinted behind her eyelids, against her will.)
She needs to get him out of her system, clearly. She just doesn't know how.Â
Beyond her, the bracelet sits on her nightstand, the delicate, iridescent thread glowing faintly in the darkness.
Eventually, she gives in. Thereâs never been an open question she could leave unresolved for too long.Â
Besides, she tells herself, there is unfinished business left between them. That is all.
So Shuri presses her lips to the shell, and she waits for him to come to her.Â
She meets him on the grassy plains, under a glittering canopy of stars. The very same place theyâd first met.
He emerges from the water in his traditional ruling garb, looking every bit as terrible and beautiful as sheâd remembered him to be.
(The wound on his ankle, she notices, is still healing.)
And for a moment, thereâs just quiet between them. An unspoken acknowledgement, perhaps, of all that has passed. All, she thinks, that is yet to come.
Namor breaks the silence first.
âI was wondering when you might call on me,â he says. Thereâs no specific inflection to the words, their true meaning carefully guarded. An understandable move from his end, really.Â
(No amount of penance or regret from her will change that, either.)
So she carries on, as best as she can.
âI want answers,â she says simply. âCan you give me that?â
âPromises are dangerous, princess,â he murmurs, and finally, finally, she swears she sees his dark eyes glint with a spark of something like recognition.
âI cannot promise you anything,â he continues. âBut I will try.â
It had been easier, in her head, to form the words. Now, however, she finds she has to take a short, steadying breath before she meets his eyes and finally says it:
âWhy did you give it to me? Your motherâs bracelet?â
Shuri doesnât give him a chance to respond, not yet. She needs to lay it all out first.
âYou could have given me anything else,â she continues, barrelling through the logic sheâs reviewed countless times in her own mind. âYour hospitality was generous from the start. The dress alone would have been enough.â
Sheâs wearing said dress now, actually, the decision to do so a last-minute whim and strategy both. The garment is soft and beautiful beyond compare: encrusted in precious stones and elegant beading that clearly speak to the immense care and skill required for its construction.
âAnd yet,â she finishes, âyou gave it to me. I want to know why.â
Had it been a part of some deeply cynical, manipulative plan to win her over, all along? She cannot believe that, somehow. He is a strategist, yes, but this move was simply too earnest for that to be true.
He looks at her, then, as if he can somehow hear the last unspoken thoughts that have crossed her mind.
âI did not plan that, no,â he starts, and the concession costs him something, she can tell. âIt was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.â
âIâve thought about it since then as well,â he continues. âUntil then, I had no equal on land or sea. No one with whom I had ever felt compelled to tell my story.â
âYou were different,â he admits, his dark gaze shifting to the tall reeds near them, swaying gently in the night breeze. âI knew, somehow, you were destined for me.â
âSo I opened my home to you, Shuri. I did not make that decision lightly.â
His jaw tenses, handsome features screwed for a single moment with an emotion she cannot place. âAnd yet. You betrayed that trust anyways.â
Ah, yes. Where it had all started to go downhill. She remembers the moment all too well.
âI did not know what Nakia had planned,â she confesses, and she realizes, faintly, that this is probably the first time heâs hearing that. âAnd I tried to save that female guard, for she had shown me nothing but kindness.â
âI did not know that,â he says, and the sudden, pained look on his face tells her everything she needs to know about the guardâs eventual fate. âI did not know that you tried to save her.â
âI did,â she murmurs, and thereâs an oh-too-familiar guilt of not being able to save someone thatâs creeping back up her throat, one she has to swallow down quickly.
âBut I could not have stayed, Namor. You would have used me as a bargaining chip.â
This is also true. Her mother had disclosed as much, on their way back to Wakanda.
âPerhaps,â he says. âOr perhaps you would have agreed, in the end.â
He is not wrong. Shuri understands, at last, the appeal of burning down the world.Â
(She simply knows now that it would mean burning herself, as well.)
"Perhaps," she agrees. "In any case â I've come to return it to its rightful owner." The bracelet is still on her wrist, glinting beneath the moonlight, but she moves to take it off.
Namor finally looks back at her, then, a startling look of finality on his face. âNo need, princess. The past is the past.â
âI meant the gift back then,â he continues. âAnd I mean it now, too. It is yours to keep.â
Shuri feels her cheeks warm at that. Finds she has to break away from his too-long gaze.Â
Thereâs too much there she does not have time to parse through. Does not want to parse through.
(She can feel the flames flickering in her chest. Have her dreams and nightmares not been punishment enough?)
âAnother question, then,â she continues. Desperate to push it all away.
He nods, and she feels a sudden lump in her throat, in spite of herself. In spite of how long it has been.
âDid you mean to kill her? The Queen Mother?â She has to blink away harrowing memories of that moment â of her motherâs lifeless body, floating facedown in the water. The pain is almost impossible to bear, if she lets herself remember it.Â
His jaw is tight, and she knows, almost immediately, what his answer will be.
âI didnât intend to, from the outset,â he confesses. âBut I donât regret it, either.â
âWar is war, Shuri,â he finishes. âAs you understand now.â
âAfter all,â he says simply, âdo you regret what you did to me?â
âNo,â she admits, and itâs the truth, even after all this time. âI knew what needed to be done. Or I thought I did.âÂ
(She had watched him burn in front of her eyes, after all, without a single moment of hesitation.)
Namor nods, and she knows that he understands her. In that strange, unspoken way that he always has.
âI have my own question for you as well, then," he says suddenly, and she sees a glimmer of curiosity under the cover of darkness.Â
âWhy did you spare me?â
Ah. Of course. It makes sense that he would still be thinking about that, after all this time.Â
It's too complicated to tell him everything, of course. But she can tell him at least one part of it.Â
âI remembered the man you were. The ruler who would do anything to protect his people.â
She had seen herself, in that moment, too. Seen what she might do, when pushed to the brink of desperation. And she'd known, in that moment, that that â pain, cruelty, fury â could not be the legacy she left behind. Could not become the legacy of the Black Panther.Â
âI saw you, and I remembered who I was. Who I was meant to be. And I knew, then, that I could not let you die.â
His death would be an impossible loss for his people. A sin she could never fully repent for.
âThere is no one else like the two of us, Namor,â she finishes simply. âThere never will be.â
He had known she was destined for him, somehow. She knows now that he was likely destined for her, too.Â
Namor meets her eyes, and once again, itâs like he knows. But perhaps this is their joint burden to bear â understanding each other in a way that will always be familiar, will always be an ache.
The night is quiet, still again. Shuri can feel somethingin the wind. Steels herself, silently, for whatever he might say, whatever is coming next.
âWill you humor me with one final question, princess?â and she nods, because, well, what choice does she have?
Sheâs been analyzing his face, the rough burr of his voice all night. So she knows she doesn't imagine the way he shifts closer at her assent, the way his mask falls and his gaze suddenly darkens.
âWhy are you wearing that dress?â he rasps out, and in that moment, she finds that sheâs frozen where she stands.
It is beyond her to play dress up simply for its own sake, to indulge in childish fantasies. Shuri bristles under the knowledge that he knows both of those things.Â
So she elects for something else. One last test, of sorts.
âTo show that we are friends,â she says simply, and well, nothing could be further from the truth.
He catches her lie immediately, of course. Lets out a small, harsh laugh at that.
âWe are not friends, princess,â he says. âPerhaps we never can be.â
âBut for what itâs worth,â he murmurs, âYouâll always be the woman who set me on fire.â
And she sees it, finally, that spark of something sheâd been running from, in her dreams and waking hours alike. The missing piece that had continuously evaded her, all along.
Thereâs a naked look of want, of hunger, burning on his face. Itâs a look that knocks the air out of her chest, makes her throat go dry.Â
(Was this what she had lost, in her quest for vengeance? Or simply what remained?)
âIt could have been different, you said,â she insists, remembering his words. It didnât have to be like this.
Shuri draws closer still, and now thereâs so little space between them that theyâre practically sharing the same air. An impropriety, perhaps, but theyâve left all semblance of that behind a long time ago.
So she channels one last well of courage. To speak her mind, and ask for what she wants. What she needs.
âWhat could it have been?â she whispers.âShow me.â
His hand is on her cheek just as the words finish leaving her mouth, and then heâs pulling her close and kissing her like a man starving.Â
And sheâd been wrong in thinking, foolishly, that sheâd never let herself burn again. No, his lips touch hers and just like that, sheâs on fire.Â
Thereâs nothing else but him, just him, as he pulls her into him and kisses her so deeply she thinks she might faint. She feels all of him in that moment â feels the liquid tension of his muscles as he wraps his other arm around her waist, the single-minded focus with which he kisses her, again and again and again.Â
They finally break apart, breathing heavily. Her world feels like itâs been tilted on its axis.
A single choice is all it takes to make things different. It can always be different.
So she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him again. And thatâs enough.
He kisses her back furiously, and itâs like the floodgates have burst open.Â
Namor knows what he is to her, now. Is unafraid to take what he finally knows to be his. She feels his hands travel greedily down the length of her frame, tracing out her breasts, squeezing the small curves of her ass.
He picks her up in his arms, finally, as his hands go around her hips. Carries her half a dozen steps before he lays her down in the tall grass, the movement so surprisingly gentle it contradicts everything else that has happened so far.Â
He turns his attention to the rest of her, now. Feverishly kisses her exposed collarbones, his hands roaming beneath her skirts and making her moan. Sheâs wet even without his ministrations, delicate underwear already soaked all the way through, but she canât find it in herself to be truly embarrassed. Not when sheâs wanted this for so long.
Namor slips the damned thing off before he finds her center, moving his fingers in a careful, practiced motion. Shuri gasps at the feeling of it, the movements still a surprise, but itâs perfect. She lets him wind her up and pull her apart, until the stars burst beneath her lids and he captures her mouth with his once more.
Sheâs still coming back down from her high, but finds it within her to turn her attentions back to him, somehow. She winds one hand into his dark hair, notes that itâs still damp from the lakewater. Curly, she thinks offhandedly, and itâs such a silly, unimportant observation to make, but she files it away for later reference anyways. His wet hair is curly.
She tugs at it, hard, and he groans above her. He breaks away then, only to run one thumb over her lower lip in what can only be described as reverence.Â
âDo you even know what you do to me?â he whispers, and fuck, sheâs never wanted him more.
âShow me,â she repeats breathlessly, and he smiles wickedly, right before he slots his hips directly over hers.
Shuri can feel his desire now, the hard press of him against her, and it doesnât scare her like it perhaps should. All she knows right now is her own want. Nothing more.
So she moves to free him, one hand reaching down between them.Â
âAre you sure?â he murmurs, voice pitched to a low tease. âYou donât want someone else, instead?â
The thought alone is ludicrous. Impossible, after the life sheâs had.
âThereâs no one else,â she murmurs, warm and breathless and aching. âNo one else for me but you.â
He growls into her mouth at that. Lets her release him before he kisses her roughly, teeth nipping at her lower lip.Â
When he breaks away once more he strips her of the last of her clothing. Sheâs completely naked, she realizes, but so is he. Her equal, in every way.
âCall me by my given name.â His hard cock rubs against her folds, teases at her entrance in the kind of slow, painful torture sheâs never had to experience before. And likely never wants to experience again, really.
If he doesnât press into her right now, she thinks, she might actually have to kill him.
âKâukâulkan,â she whispers, âplease, take me.â Keep me.Â
He doesnât hesitate, after that. Sinks into her with a low groan, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips.Â
âShuri,â he murmurs against her mouth like a hymn, like a prayer. âShuri.â
And thereâs nothing left in her mind at all, nothing except the feeling of him inside her, the white-hot burn of want it stokes within.
She has no weapons in this fight. No claws except her own.
So she takes her nails and sinks them into his back. And that, too, is enough.
He is not gentle with her. He knows he does not need to be.
No, when he moves, he moves decisively. Squeezes her hips and thrusts into her hard, showing her no mercy.
She can feel the raw power behind his movements as he fucks her, and thereâs nothing else like it. Itâs all she can do to keep up, to match his pace, her hips moving against his, her lithe frame winding around him.Â
Shuri locks her legs around him, squeezes hard. A dirty trick, but one sheâs rewarded for immediately, as he captures her mouth with his, kisses her until she moans beneath him. He breaks away briefly and shifts his firm grip, changes the angle of his thrusts so he hits just the right spot.
This is meant to be a sacred, quiet place, and all she can think of is this. The sounds of their bodies coming together, every last moan and whimper and sigh he draws from her lips. The unmistakable smell of sweat, of sex entering the cool night air.
Itâs all too much. It cannot possibly ever be enough, she thinks.
They race together towards the end, as furiously as theyâd started: her nails in his back, his hot breath on her cheek. She fights off the inevitable anyways, battling the pleasure building inside her with the need to make it last just a little bit longer.
âPrincess,â he groans out at last,âPlease.â
He doesnât have to tell her to yield. For once in her life, she simply does.Â
The sound of his voice tips her over the edge. Shuri lets the pleasure wash over her, submerge her entirely, like tides against the ocean shore.
He comes after she does, and sheâs convinced thereâs no more beautiful sight. Than seeing the man before her â powerful, dangerous, beautiful â surrender to her, as well.
And for a moment, there is just that. The two of them together, his forehead against hers, their breath intermingling.
The past is the past â immovable, unchangeable. The future remains unknowable, out of sight.Â
She cannot predict what other challenges will come her way. She will not waste her time attempting to try.
But itâs a brave new world, and itâs full of change.Â
He can change for the better, and she can change, too.Â
And besides, she thinks as he leans down to press his lips to hers once more, one can never know what theyâll find.Â
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The Unbearable Loudness of Chewing
Why Do Some People Find Certain Sounds Intolerable? And Why Has It Taken So Long For Scientists to Get Even a Preliminary Answer?
â Jake Eaton | January 2025 | Asterisk Magazine
Itâs a teenage rite of passage to explode into rage at your parents. While the usual outburst is sparked by some combination of hormones, insecurity, and authority issues, for me it was a popping sound in my fatherâs jaw. I first noticed it at the dinner table. Every time he took a bite, the disc of cartilage that cushioned his jawbone would slip out of place and snap back. Chew, click, chew, click. Like a drum, his mouth reverberated the sound, which changed in pitch each time he opened to take a bite. Layered beneath all of this was the wet percussion of normal chewing. The trio â jaw pop, meat squish, fork scraping teeth â became inescapable. And it drove into me, first through my chest, a surprising shock of affront and disgust that then suffused through my whole body. It was the first time I ever got scared that I wasnât in control of what was inside my own head.
Jul Quanouai
I canât precisely date this memory, but I was somewhere around the age of 13 when I became unable to tolerate the sound of other peopleâs mouths. In a world in which everyone eats, my day to day became an obstacle course. I learned to contract the tensor tympani muscle in my middle ear to dampen sounds. In moments of silence, I was sensitive enough that even the subtle parting of lips could trigger in me the urge to flee. There wasnât logic to what I felt. I knew that. It changed nothing. In my worst moments I started fights, especially with my family, among whom the condition, whatever it was, felt orders of magnitude more severe.
I learned strategies to hide my aversion. Restaurants and the school cafeteria were loud enough to mask eating sounds. You couldnât eat in my car â it was, I said, just a cleanliness thing. I wore headphones everywhere. Still, I felt the consequences. I became more introverted. My family resigned to eating dinner with the TV on. My high school girlfriend called me out on what had become my habitual death stare when we ate near each other. I fell out with my best friend after I questioned his familyâs table manners. I spent hours alone trying to integrate whatever was happening as part of me, hoping I had a wire crossed, afraid that I was experiencing â there was nothing online to help me â an incipient slide into mental illness.
And then in 2011, my first year out of college, I happened upon a piece in the New York Times which described a poorly understood condition some scientists had begun to call misophonia. (1) For its sufferers, certain sounds â often chewing â evoked what seemed an uncontrollable and disproportionate reaction of anger and disgust. It consistently appeared in adolescence. It had no cure. It was, or at least one neuroscientist hypothesized, a hard-wired condition, âa âphysiological abnormalityâ that resides in brain structures activated by processed sound.â
Awash in the relief of diagnosis â not vindication so much as no longer feeling alone â the first thing I did was forward the article to my family. âSo please be sensitive toward my âphysiological abnormalityâ when I come home,â I wrote, shielding my sincerity in irony.
13 years later, I feel much less impacted by misophonia. My family knows what it is, even if they donât fully understand it. In this, they arenât much different than the general public. But itâs only after spending a few months reading and speaking to researchers that Iâve come to realize that the science of misophonia â at least in what we can say with certainty â isnât well established either.
It has taken, in fact, more than 20 years since the condition was first recognized to even arrive at a definition. And outside of that, some of the most basic questions remain up for debate. Where does misophonia originate, and why? Is it a medical disorder, a neurological disorder, a psychiatric disorder, or something else entirely? Most important of all â at least to the millions of people who likely suffer from it, many without fully understanding what it is â can it be cured?
(1)â Marsha Johnson, an audiologist in private practice in Oregon who trained with Jastreboff, noticed what we now call misophonia around the same time. In the late â90s, she termed it âselective sound sensitivity syndrome.â
Starting Conditions
In 1983, Pawel Jastreboff, a Polish engineer-turned-neuroscientist, began studying tinnitus. One of his main contributions from his early research was an animal model of the condition. It was a clever experiment that built on the work of his Ph.D. advisor, Jerzy Konorski, who developed the idea of operant conditioning after working in Ivan Pavlovâs lab.
Jastreboff raised rats to live with a constant, high-pitched ringing sound. They were then trained to expect a mild electric shock when the sound shut off. Next, he gave the rats salicylate (aspirin), which is known to cause ringing in the ears. And then he watched how the rats behaved when he shut off the tone. Rather than behave as if it was silent and a shock was coming, they acted normally. It appeared they were still hearing a ringing. While the model produces only temporary tinnitus, it allowed researchers to validate that animals could be trained to respond to internally perceived sounds, establishing one of the first behavioral methods to measure tinnitus in animals.
Jastreboff also developed a proprietary treatment, âtinnitus retraining therapy,â which drew, as did the animal experiments, on his belief that the condition wasnât auditory in nature. It consisted of a combination of counseling and sound therapy that promised to âreclassify tinnitus into the category of neutral stimuli.â In other words: to counter-condition the signal. He soon took a faculty position at the University of Maryland that came with a clinic to further his study, where he also saw patients with another sound tolerance disorder called hyperacusis, a rare condition affecting about one in 50,000 people in which noises are perceived as unbearably loud. (The most common cause is damage to the cochlea, but it is more prevalent in those with tinnitus than it is in the general population.)
To meet increased patient demand, Jastreboffâs wife, Margaret, a molecular biologist and pharmacologist, joined him in the clinic. And it was Margaret who noticed something Pawel had not. Some patients were intolerant of sounds, but their symptoms fit the profile of neither tinnitus nor hyperacusis. Several hundred out of a thousand patients appeared to be afflicted by an intolerance to specific sounds, with specific origins.
âI was very skeptical,â Pawel said, âbut she convinced me.â And so he came to understand that every patient was a little different. They were triggered by a variety of noises: the drone of an airplane 30,000 feet above, a refrigerator hum, or the clacking of a keyboard. One patient could not bear the sound of his parentsâ voices. âEverybody around him had to speak in a whisper. When I met him outside of the clinic, he had to carry a sound generator set at such a high level that I was able to hear it from ten feet away.â
The way these patients reacted to noise was different from those suffering from hyperacusis or tinnitus. They had, as Jastreboff euphemistically put it in the first published piece to use the word misophonia, âa negative attitude to sound,â which seemed to activate their fight-or-flight response. (2) The next year, the Jastreboffs published the first peer-reviewed article to include the term âmisophoniaâ in the Australian and New Zealand Journal of Audiology. It detailed, they claimed, (3) how tinnitus retraining therapy could alleviate both tinnitus and misophonia.
For ten years, it was met by silence.
(2)â The Jastreboffs consulted a classics professor on the name, which literally translates to âhatred of sound.â Lots of people donât like this name because neither âhatredâ nor âsoundâ accurately characterize the condition.
(3)â The Jastreboffs have never submitted their treatment to any form of controlled trial, so Iâm being deliberate, not cynical, here.
Quiet
I wish Iâd seen that paper when it first came out. I was 14 at the time, and I would wait another nine years to learn the term. Iâm sure others feel the same â today, for example, the r/misophonia subreddit has 78,000 members. But between 2002 and 2013, misophonia appeared in journals just 15 times, mostly in case reports, none of which made meaningful advances in the science. (One, âFear of the Yawning Mother: A Case Study of Misophonia,â was retracted due to a legal dispute.)
Why does it fail to gain any traction? I can think of a few reasons. The first is that the Jastreboffs are clinicians. Their published work relies on their private practice, emphasizing observation over experiment. Nor did the Jastreboffs ever sell the concept: Misophonia doesnât even appear in most of their article titles. (4) And so itâs not surprising that, pre-social media, burying a newly coined disorder in the text of an obscure Antipodean audiology journal (impact factor 0.4) is akin â as it were â to shouting into the void.
(4)â It is, plainly, âDecreased Sound Tolerance and Tinnitus Retraining Therapy (TRT).â
But I think a second, larger reason is that misophonia is weird. Itâs hard to explain and difficult to understand and doesnât make any intuitive sense. After all, everyone hates the sound of chewing. (5) What appears to be a deep aversive reaction to sounds that most people donât like can seem â I speak from personal experience here â like youâre hard to tolerate. Itâs easier to be skeptical than empathetic. âEven now, when patients donât know about misophonia, their friends and family are often quick to dismiss their complaints as them simply being neurotic or over-dramatic,â said Zach Williams, a neuroscientist Ph.D. and M.D. candidate at Vanderbilt who has studied misophonia and decreased sound tolerance.
(5)â To be clear, misophonics are quite a bit more sensitive on this front. Most people dislike the sound of chewing, but at least one study has shown that many misophonics are triggered by sounds such as breathing and swallowing that donât bother the general population.
It doesnât help that we donât have clear historical precedents of the condition, the way we see, for example, signs of what we now call PTSD in writing from the First World War. At least so I thought. Misophonia researchers are quick to cite possible cases. Winston Churchill held a lifelong aversion to whistling. Churchillâs bodyguard, in his memoir, recounts Englandâs PM admonishing a boy for trilling while walking down the street. The man posted signs in his war room bunkers that read âThere is to be no whistling or unnecessary noise in this passage.â Then there is Proust lining his room with cork and Kafkaâs fixation on the din of his house in âGreat Noise.â What we accept as the anality of the great artist might start to appear as something else entirely.
Scientists were also skeptical of Jastreboffâs research when they did encounter it. Jastreboff spoke of being treated as if heâd conjured a condition out of thin air. âYouâre totally ignored, you do not exist,â he said, âor you are just talking garbage.â That began to change, ten years later, with an article in the New York Times â the same from my eureka moment â titled âWhen a Chomp or a Slurp Is a Trigger for Outrage.â The month the story came out, the Google Trends for misophonia erupted into existence. Itâs only grown since. It tends to periodically spike for news stories or new studies. (Its second spike occurs in May 2012, when ABCâs 20/20 aired a somewhat sensational segment about a daughter who couldnât even talk to her mom; it also featured Kelly Ripa, who self-diagnosed with misophonia after reading the Times article.)
Finally, in 2013, misophonia found real traction among scientists. According to Jastreboff, there was a third challenge in the early research breaking through. âAudiologists donât write that much because it distracts them from other things â mainly making money with patients.â It was only a matter of time until psychologists (who, to be clear, also make money with patients) noticed the condition. âAnd psychologists,â he said, âlike to write a lot.â
Noise
âSome patients report a preoccupation with a specific aversive human sound that triggers impulsive aggression,â reads the abstract to a 2013 paper in PLOS ONE. âThis condition is relatively unknown and has hitherto never been described, although the phenomenon has anecdotally been named misophonia.â (6) Led by Arjan Schröder, a psychiatrist at the University of Amsterdam, the article did more than describe the condition â its subtitle explicitly labeled it: âMisophonia: A New Psychiatric Disorder.â
(6)â The paper actually cites Jastreboff here as the âanecdotalâ evidence.
In broad strokes, it gets the descriptive aspect right: The average age of onset (around 13); the specificity of triggers; the usual response of irritability, disgust, and anger are all now well-validated. But it begins, literally, with a case of selection bias: âThree patients were referred to our expertise centre in obsessive-compulsive disorders (OCD) at the Academic Medical Center in Amsterdam with obsessions focused on a typical sound such as smacking or breathing and the subsequent aggressive impulse to scream and yell or attack the source of the sound in order to make it stop.â
Of the 42 participants (all of whom self-selected into an OCD clinic), 22 met the diagnostic criteria for obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. To boot, the scale the authors created to measure the severity of misophonia symptoms, the A-MISO-S, was adapted from a scale used to measure the severity of OCD.
While Schröder et al. are careful to note that misophonia is distinct from any disorders recognized in the DSM, they also suggest it âshould be considered as an obsessive-compulsive spectrum disorderâ â a loosely grouped range of conditions that most often includes body dysmorphia, hypochondriasis, tic disorders like Tourette syndrome, and body-focused repetitive disorders such as trichotillomania, in which individuals pull out their own hair.
Figuratively, eating sounds have made me want to pull out my hair. But the idea that misophonia belongs on the OCD spectrum ultimately proved premature. Seven years later, research from the same group found that the comorbidity between misophonia and OCPD traits was lower than that first research: only ~25%. A 2023 paper, designed to tease out the relationship between OCPD and misophonia, found that misophonia isnât correlated with having a diagnosis. Itâs just that misophonia kind of looks like OCPD. I have not come across other research that validates the obsessive-compulsive spectrum placement.
The Schröder paper deserves credit for igniting more formal research into misophonia. But it is also emblematic of the way that first decade of misophonia science often appeared to grasp for scientific purchase at a range of disorders and diagnoses that could serve as a template. One paper, based on just three case studies, suggests that misophonia may be associated with the presentation of eating disorders. Another concluded that âmisophonia is better described as a symptom of a) obsessive-compulsive disorder, b) generalized anxiety disorder, and c) schizotypal personality disorder.â It, too, was based on just three case studies.
âThe early definitions of misophonia are a bit like Rorschach inkblots,â said Zach Rosenthal, associate professor in psychiatry and behavioral sciences and the director of the Duke Center for Misophonia and Emotion Regulation. (7) âWhat you see is based on your own expectations and biases.â
(7)â Probably the largest center dedicated to the study of misophonia in the world. (Itâs six people full time, plus grad students.)
Ideally, science works as a cooperative, knowledge-sharing enterprise in well-coordinated pursuit of the truth. And it can â but sufficient funding is required to foster enough competition that errors and misdirections get corrected quickly enough. Through most of the 2010s, that is not the case for misophonia.
This is a tricky recipe when it intersects with the media. For example, in 2017, Sukhbinder Kumar et al. published fMRI results that shone preliminary light on misophoniaâs holy grail: the underlying mechanism. In misophonics, trigger sounds cause hyperactivity in the anterior insular cortex and other parts of the brain responsible for processing and regulating emotions. The authors are careful to conclude that itâs impossible to tell whether this is a cause or consequence of misophonia, but the CBC went on to declare misophonia âthe result of a misfire in the brain.â The headline of the New York Times coverage: âMisophonia Sufferers: Scientists May Have Found the Root of Your Pain.â (8)
(8)â One point of caution with respect to Kumar et al. â and this is argued by Schröder in a commentary â is that they recruited patients on the basis of an unvalidated questionnaire. Having looked at the questions, which are quite open-ended, I tend to think this is fine.
Part of the problem is that, in the early years, it was hard to find an unbiased and large sample to say anything confident about comorbidities in misophonia. So many of the early papers were drawn from some form of psychiatric clinic or private practice that itâs impossible to say much about misophonia in the general population. In 2017, a sample of 301 qualified as a âlarge-scaleâ study of misophonia. That study found that 50% of their sample appeared to have no comorbidities at all, while the other 50% were affected by a variety of conditions, only one of which â PTSD â helped to explain misophonia symptom severity. (9)
(9)â Tantalizingly, they also find that 50% of their sample reporting experiencing an âunfamiliar phenomenon called autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR).â Iâve spoken with a few friends with misophonia, and they all report also enjoying ASMR. Weirdly, Iâve seen almost no follow up on this.
There is also the challenge of measuring prevalence without validated scales. The earliest estimates are based on the perennially most convenient population: undergrads. A 2014 paper reported the incidence in the United States to be 20%. A 2017 paper among Chinese students pegged it at 6%. Neither of these studies uses the same scale, nor are those which they use validated. (Remember: We didnât even get a consensus definition of misophonia until 2022.)
âThe science is flawed. Nobody wants to hear it, but it is,â Rosenthal told me over Zoom. Thereâs few studies with representative or large samples; we know less about men and boys; almost no research has been done outside of WEIRD contexts. âEverything needs to be held carefully in terms of what it is and what we know it is from a scientific perspective.â Rosenthal was sitting in his basement, but his background was sunset on the Green River in Utah, where he had just been on a camping trip. Iâd asked for an hour of his time; we ended up speaking for two, and I got the sense he was the sort of person to extend the same generosity to his patients â and to the nascent misophonia research community.
Which in 2019 began to coalesce.
Signal
The turning point is the injection of meaningful research funding. In 2019, the philanthropists Steve and Diane Miller created the Misophonia Research Fund. (The Millersâ daughter was diagnosed with misophonia in 2016.) âThey have single-handedly injected $12 million dollars into misophonia research to date and are essentially the sole funder of misophonia research at this time,â said Williams. (10)
(10)â The Duke Misophonia Center is funded by an anonymous donor, and there are scattered smaller grants.
Research output on misophonia has tripled since 2019. And with it has come some stepping stones. There are now several better validated scales: the Duke Misophonia Questionnaire, developed by Rosenthal and colleagues; and the S-Five, developed by Jane Gregory and colleagues. Gregory had gotten interested after seeing misophonia patients in her own clinical practice. A key aspect of the S-Five is that it can better track clinical improvements within individual patients, which older scales had not. âMy patients were saying, âI feel a lot better, but thatâs not reflected in the change in scores,ââ Gregory said. âHalf the questionnaire was based on this section that essentially said, âCompared to other people, I am sensitive to these sounds.ââ For a misophonia patient, that is almost always true â and so it was important to capture change.â (11)
(11)â Itâs still, however, a work in progress. As Gregory noted to me, a flaw in the S-Five is that it doesnât differentiate between hyperacusis and misophonia. âWe didn't have that in mind when we were designing it. We were working from the clinical experience we had. So thatâs the next step of the research.â
In July of 2024, Laura Dixon et al. published the largest survey to date (n = 4,005) which supports what has been intuitively obvious for some time: While a large proportion of people (78.5%) report sensitivity to trigger sounds, only a small proportion â 4.6% in this study â report clinical levels of misophonia.
MRF now holds annual meetings, âthe beginnings of what will probably be our professional society one day,â said Williams. And it funds, for the first time, a project to arrive at a consensus definition of misophonia. It was an intensive Delphi process ( a structured approach to expert consensus) conducted over eight months: 15 experts, 68 references that included definitions of misophonia, and four rounds of voting to arrive at:
Misophonia is a disorder of decreased tolerance to specific sounds or stimuli associated with such sounds. These stimuli, known as âtriggers,â are experienced as unpleasant or distressing and tend to evoke strong negative emotional, physiological, and behavioral responses that are not seen in most other people. Misophonic responses do not seem to be elicited by the loudness of auditory stimuli, but rather by the specific pattern or meaning to an individual.
But outside of that definition, some of the most basic questions about misophonia remain. Specifically, is it psychological, neurological, audiological, or something else entirely?
âThe Committee concluded that the scientific evidence regarding whether or not to classify misophonia as a âmedicalâ or âpsychiatricâ disorder is currently insufficient but that underlying organic etiology of the disorder cannot be ruled out.â
The researchers I spoke with were similarly cautious on this front. âThereâs not even anything reasonably in the proximity of definitive,â said Rosenthal. Or as Williams put it: âIf someone tells you they know exactly what causes misophonia down to the molecular or brain pathway (which probably comes with their own patented cure that they conveniently own exclusive marketing rights to), I would consider those claims hyperbolic or not take them seriously at all.â
Still, when I spoke with researchers, they were willing to hazard cautious, caveated answers to the question that Iâve most wanted answered since I was 13: Where is this coming from?
Rosenthal favors a multilevel frame. There are biological vulnerabilities that we might think of as strong antennae, such as sensitivity to sensory input or sensitivity to emotions. (12) Then there are environmental vulnerabilities: growing up in an environment of unpredictability, a chronic invalidation of oneâs internal experiences, the need for hypervigilance in navigating oneâs environment. Call this âwalking on eggshells.â The interplay between those two factors translates into a hypersensitivity that, over time, locks onto a particular trigger â possibly one which you first heard at a moment you worried the eggshells were about to break.
(12)â Whether these are truly biological is an even harder question to answer.
Gregoryâs view is similar. Her book, Sounds Like Misophonia, a popular take on the science and guide to coping strategies, lays out specific examples of how misophonics learn to associate sounds with stressors: children eating at the dinner table during a period of family conflict; a child bullied near the basketball courts who comes to associate dribbling with social threat; a salaryman frustrated with his career progress who notices how loudly his co-worker taps on her keyboard. (One of my favorite pieces, âDid Kant Suffer from Misophonia?,â speculates that misophonia arises when common sounds violate internalized social norms, specifically Western table manners that dictate demureness when eating, thereby disrupting oneâs sense of an orderly world. (13) Itâs somewhat compelling.) Dixonâs survey showed that over half of misophonics report eating sounds as their first trigger. If thereâs truth in it, itâs that the dinner table â the place where happy and unhappy families alike gather â is a common site for conflict, including over table manners.
(13)â Kant was apparently sensitive to a variety of sounds, including boats, prison singing, and, most notably, the crowing of a rooster â one which irritated him so much he tried to buy and kill it.
Williams notes, however, that âwhether misophonia traits and their specific manifestations (e.g., which triggers are most bothersome, how severe the reactions are, how one behaviorally responds, etc.) are learned over time remains an open question.â Itâs likely that the avoidance of trigger sounds may be a secondary reaction of classical conditioning but that some of the automatic responses may not be learned in the typical way. âThis is all still to be understood, though.â
Some sort of neurological root â as the consensus definition notes â remains on the table. In 2021, Kumarâs lab published fMRI results that point to a motor basis for misophonia. Specifically, the brains of people with misophonia show heightened activation in areas that control facial movements when hearing triggers. The idea that misophonia is a misfiring of mirror neurons then got picked up in a range of outlets, but more recent results have contradicted those findings. Patient advocates seem to appreciate the concreteness of brain imaging studies: Here, see, misophonia is real; itâs in the brain. But fMRI is expensive, and both of these studies were small.
Jastreboff remains adamant that the idea that misophonia is a âpsychiatric disorderâ is wrong. Much of the evidence pointing in that direction, he believes, is a result of selection bias in recruiting. Theoretically, âit is possible to turn everybody into a misophonia patient towards a specific sound.â His view remains that misophonia is a disorder of conditioned reflexes where the brain has formed strong functional connections between the auditory system and other brain systems (particularly the limbic and autonomic nervous systems).
Harmony
In many ways, misophonia resembles what Scott Alexander has called a âtrapped prior.â A belief is âtrappedâ when it has become so strong it causes you to interpret all new evidence â even contradictory evidence â in support of the belief. A phobia is a basic form of trapped prior. Youâre asked to speak in front of the class and you mess up. You get made fun of. Your brain then associates public speaking with social danger, creating a self-reinforcing cycle of anxiety that impairs your speaking performance, which then confirms your belief that speaking is dangerous.
More recent research on psychedelics and depression has provided some evidence for the trapped-priors framework. The theory goes: In depression, high-level priors like "the world is fundamentally threatening" or "I am worthless" become extremely rigid and self-reinforcing. Psychedelics appear to temporarily "relax" these high-level priors by reducing their influence over lower-level sensory processing.
Under the predictive processing/trapped-prior framework, misophonia begins to look a little less strange: Your brain forms, for whatever reason, a negative association with specific sounds. Each new exposure to the trigger sound gets interpreted through the lens of that prior â the brain expects the sound to be unbearable, which causes a strong emotional and physiological reaction, which then reinforces the prior that the sound is unbearable. This self-reinforcing loop is difficult to break.
The evidence for how it might be broken in misophonia, specifically, is thin. A 2023 systematic review of treatments found just one randomized controlled trial, one open label trial, and 31 case studies. (14) That RCT, which used cognitive behavioral therapy techniques, found modest effects: 37% in the treatment group had clinical improvements compared with 0% in the control. The open-label trial, also CBT-based (and led by Schröder), worked for half. And some case studies suggest CBT can improve symptoms. Still, itâs early days.
(14)â A few more RCTs are on the way. One seeks to compare acceptance and commitment therapy to progressive relaxation training. Another is testing the effectiveness of CBT combined with psychomotor therapy in children and adolescents.
The fact that CBT-based techniques sometimes help with misophonia fits the trapped-prior model. By introducing trigger sounds in controlled, low-stress environments, it may allow the sensory "bandwidth" to stay open enough to update the prior â rather than having it override the experience. Some of Gregoryâs techniques break the association altogether by, for example, imagining a different origin to the sound. She gave the example (from a workshop, not a patient) of a man bothered by the sound of kids bouncing on a trampoline next door. He appeared to find relief by listening to trampoline sounds while imagining not kids but his cat jumping up and down in joy.
I tend to be self-deprecating about my own experience with misophonia. That is a coping strategy. Itâs my way of saying: Heads-up, please forgive me, I know this is weird. I imagine a lot of misophonics feel the same. Pardon us for being crazy. We apologize for taking up space. But that experience is not everyoneâs. The severity of my misophonia experience has diminished over time. (On Gregoryâs S-Five, I score 48 out of 250, below the score of 87 that she uses as a cutoff for âsignificantâ misophonia.) On a day-to-day basis I feel mostly unimpaired.
Others suffer. Some deeply. The r/misophonia subreddit can be sad and desperate. âMy trigger is the worst thing in my life,â âI've honestly felt the urge to punch my own wife,â âI fucking hate it with every fiber of my being,â âI have no friends, and it's often hard to even go outside.â A number of suicides have been traced to misophonia. At least on Reddit, some people report going to extreme lengths â including intentional deafness â to eliminate triggers.
People need help. But this need runs up against practical barriers. There are few places to seek treatment. Misophonia remains poorly recognized. No one technique is yet proven. Official classification as a disorder could help funnel resources and attention, but there is some debate within the advocacy community about the utility of pursuing that. Those who are comfortable labeling misophonia a psychiatric disorder have no issue on this front. But âother people get really mad when thatâs even on the table to consider,â Rosenthal said.
The two main options are either Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or the International Classification of Diseases. Rosenthal thinks the ICD is the more appropriate place, particularly because itâs not yet clear whether misophonia is best classified as a mental disorder.
âItâs undeniably a good thing to have misophonia in at least one manual,â Williams said. â[N]o code means no billing, and no billing means no reimbursement for services (not to mention less legitimacy in medico-legal contexts, advocacy, etc.).â
Modulation
I had hoped to try some of the CBT-inspired approaches for this piece. Then I got busy. More honestly, I had a hard time overcoming the inertia to even start. I found myself caught in a familiar pattern: avoiding treatment for a condition that makes me avoid things.
Instead, I had an unexpected opportunity: a week-long silent meditation retreat. Assuming misophonia is indeed like a trapped prior, a retreat could offer the space for processing sensory experience in a new light. Meditation, at its heart, is a way to drop all preconceptions and to see things as they are.
Which is how I found myself five days into the deepest equanimity Iâve ever felt curiously observing my own reactivity manifest. The meditation hall was quiet but not silent, punctuated by the subtle sounds of thirty people settling into their seats. Every time the person next to me swallowed, I felt first a brief ripple of anger at the sound itself, followed by a larger wave of frustration at my reaction to it. Here I was exerting intensive focus on something I wasnât supposed to be focusing on. I was shocked at the extent to which I felt â imagined I could even see â the sounds of other people swallowing around me as tiny darts into and through my chest.
And yet, with time, as I settled, I became better able to notice the space between sensation and reaction. For the first time, I could choose to ignore the signal. To separate it as part of myself. Something happening in my awareness, but not necessarily to me. I could allow it to be, for once, just noise.
There were times researching this piece when I found myself frustrated with the slow pace and sporadic nature of misophonia science. I was angry for my younger self at researchers jumping to conclusions, annoyed at the way misophonia seemed carelessly lumped in with whatever condition the author seemed to know best â back to trapped priors again.
But this now seems unfair. For more than a decade, the field operated with tiny budgets and poor visibility. And I am hopeful that misophonia research is poised to experience something of an acceleration in the coming years. Brain science continues to advance every day. Early research from the Duke Center for Misophonia has shown that targeted brain stimulation combined with CBT techniques can help accelerate treatment. Psychedelics, theoretically, are another area to consider.
These might all pan out to help in small to large ways. But the fruition of this research will take years, if not decades. Even then, it is unlikely we ever see a genuine âcure.â This remains a point of debate among some within the misophonia community. âThereâs a lot of quackery and snake oil out there,â Williams said. âThis is a context ripe for desperation. And people need to be protected from that.â
I donât think there is a cure. Our history treating other complex psychological conditions â from depression and anxiety to OCD and ADHD â suggests that while we may yet find more effective treatments, there is no silver bullet. Anyone who says differently may be selling you something. Living with misophonia may require something harder, the answer that was always obvious but many of us prefer not to confront: work.
â Jake Eaton is the Managing Editor of Asterisk Magazine.
#Asterisk Magazine#Jake Eaton#Unbearable Loudness#Chewing#Intolerable#Scientists#Preliminary Answers
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(This piece contains the following: mentions/implication of corpse(s), implied Pokémon death, mentions of blood, and implied murder)
(Any other warnings will be added later when/of applicable)
[Winding woods, Kalos]
[Sometime earlier?]
The wet crunch of the snow faded behind her as the ground turned to the grassy floor and winding dirt paths of forest ahead. Flowers were growing on nearly every piece of available space that wasnât trees or dirt, a staple of the Kalos region as a whole. Made the place seem bright, a welcome feeling considering she was in the process of trying to clear her head. Not that she was being particularly successful in that regard, despite the recent attempts to remain civil, the back of her mind was still slowly dissolving into a flurry of arguments. As per usual.
At least the walk was helping. With a soft sigh she closed her eyes, her mind drifting immediately to the forestâs of her home. The bitter achingâŠno the longing that pulled her instantly towards the familiar memories overtook her, drowning out the slowly growing noise in the back of her mind.
More memories began to flood her thoughts. Her old friends, the way theyâd always be pushing each other forward through the shared journey, the hopeful talks theyâd all have before the beginning, wondering what the future would hold for them all. The rush of excitement and freedom that encompassed the early parts of their adventure.
A piece of her that still longed for those feelings has resurfaced over the past weeks while in Kalos, doing the gym challenge especially had brought back the rush she used to feel all those years ago when things were still alright.
It hadnât stayed that way for long. How could it have, when it turned out this way? No. It had gone downhill, and rather quickly at that, something she had tried to convince herself wasnât actually going to turn into such an issue at the time.
The first time she had seen a legendary was a terrifying experience. Not only because the mere presence of the thing was overwhelming, but because of what it meant overall, for everything. That had arguably been the turning point, where there was no going back anymore.
Just the stone itself had held the same overwhelming presence as the other legendary had, but that hadnât been the part that weighed her down. Instead it was the expectations that came with it. The human expectations. It had been too much, yet sheâd had barely a choice in the matter.
The expectations and weight of the stone had been something she had purposefully rid herself of at the final moment. The resulting spark of determination to do things her own way had been enough to push her through what was, at the time, one of the scariest confrontations of her life. But the memory of what shouldâve been the worst part of that day paled in comparison to what had gone down afterwards.
Her recollection was fuzzy, but the parts that she did remember pushed through mind like a needle through fabric.
Boiling rage, the mangled remains, the way she wasnât even sure how the next part had ended up happening.
The overwhelming stench of blood. The shaking of her entire body, while nearly her entire forearm covered in blood. Her fingertips slipping apart as she stood shaking and the clattering of the bloodstained object to the ground. The realization of what she had done. The way she didnât have time to think about it.
Despite it. It happened despite it. âChosen heroâ is how sheâd been addressed at first by them but the title had never fit, not ever.
She had been, despite everything, chosen three times. Sought out even, and for what reason she had no idea.
âChosenâ
What a thing to call herself.
#Chosen anon#tw blood#tw pokemon death#tw corpse#tw murder#ask to tag#(<- aka if I missed a tag let me know)#Kalos arc#pkmn irl#pokeblogging#rotomblr#pokémon irl#pokemon irl#rotumblr#(Hey look canon divergence)
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Hey Ash! I hope your exams are going well!
Iâm curious about where you stand on the spectrum of âthis will soon blow overâ to âmonarchy ending crisisâ? Many fans seem to be at the latter end of the spectrum. I agree that there were some mistakes made, and it looks really bad to outsiders right now (just considering the random tweets that pop up on my tl with 50k + likes believing some of the worst theories), but it just feels like such an overboiling pot in a quiet kitchen situation, the fact that it all came to a head over a photograph??
I think the worst thing that will come of it is that so many neutrals will take certain things to be âfactâ, some of the WORST include that W has a mistress, he has fathered her children, he is a raging alcoholic, and (shudders) he is a domestic abuser, and Catherine attempted suicide. How are people with a huge reach even allowed to state these things with no evidence or consequences?? But then, what can WC even do? Any statement wonât be believed, and suing as we know will lead to a never-ending spiral of litigation and questions over what they donât sue against. Maybe legal papers is the answer (to some of the bigger sources, like Stephen Colbert for one). It still wouldnât be well received at this point.
I donât quite think itâs a no-return catastrophe yet, but a lot depends on what happens when Catherine returns. Thatâs huge pressure on her, especially after her ongoing health issues! Honestly the craziness gets too much for me sometimesđ
Hi, they are going well thanks for asking. The one in afternoon tmrw is actually my last one for this exam session. The rest are in April & then in May. Out uni is weird like that, they take exams in stages.
I honestly think, and this is my honest opinion, people blow things out of proportion a lot, just as the people on the internet who are spreading all these theories. Sometimes, the Royal fandom also takes things on the extreme. It's not monarchy ending, if it was so easy to change the whole political system of a country, then the monarchy would have gone with diana but it didn't.
And people on social media sparking ridiculous notions and conspiracies isn't going to be able to being that political system down because like I said we might consider royal-watching as our hobby but in reality the monarchy is intertwined with UK as Sovereign State. And that doesn't go away just because people, most of them from outside of that country, are crying wolf online.
What I don't think they realise is that, at the core of it, the monarchy is the integral part of the UK's structure. That's the head of state, same as a president. And nobody can just change it on a whim. In fact, this is one of my issues with the Republican movement in the UK at times. A lot of them want to remove the monarchy. That I get, but where's the tangible alternative? And a proper plan to execute it. It's not child's play. It's a whole institution around which a political system - a state system is built.
I never found Stephen colbert funny, and tbh I didn't even know who he was when I was young because our parents were placed mostly in countries in Asia and like man's not a popculture figure here. Kimmel, Fallon people know, but not him. It's got to do with him and seth meyers both catering to the american political spheres, and honestly, that's not what most of the population are interested in here. I found out about him when I got into American politics and elections. Anyway, I don't know what he said exactly, but I saw on one of the other blogs what he was insinuating. And yk what? FUCK HIM. Not just for spewing tabloid bullshit & lies about people. For dragging and bullying a woman going through a fucking health crisis for tv, for dragging another woman who's a private citizen and defaming her, for making it possible that 6 children who are all at an age where they can access internet will be able to read lies about their parents and disgusting things being said about them, don't even get me started on all the other ways they'll might have to deal with these allegations. Truly and utterly repulsed by this whole segment, which was done for fun. And yk what? Legal letters are the least of things he deserves.
Yk, I have been saying this, but they could have posted a picture. They could have done a video. They could have done an engagement. But whatever they did? The people online would have said or done something to find some sort of discrepancy. The regular sane people I know or have been following online have only said that this whole thing is a joke, and the way people are blowing it out of proportion is just plain bullying with a nice sprinkling of misogyny added in. I was actually talking about this with my dad on call last night, and he and i both landed on the same thing, that it's just simple economics. The whole problem with the photo for the press is that they didn't get to click it. Hence, they don't get rights, so there's no cash for them. Another thing media doesn't have things to report rn, they could easily cover other royals and not wade into conspiracy theories but they know what sells. And people online are just plain fucking crazy, these people will always say something or have some conspiracy theory. I mean flat earthers, the lizard people thing, the ones about Obama etc are just some of the properly wild, idiotic, and completely untrue things people actually believe are true.
An average voter/citizen in the UK with a real life outside of the twitter bubble doesn't give a fuck about it all. Heck most people including royalists don't even pay attention to royals as much as royal fandom thinks they do irl. I'll speak from personal experience, I end up chatting more about the royals with my mum's side of the fam than my dad's, and the latter are actually uk citizens. The royals exist for them, and thats it. They literally couldn't care less about this online drama, and they dont. Do they pay attention to the imp events like the jubilee or the coronation or the Christmas addresses? Yes, but not what the gossip people are up to online. So it's a complete non-issue. Also, most of this is just the twitter echo chamber which has 368 million users out of a 7.8 almost 7.9 billion population. Most of whom I.e. 77.75 are from the USA. Even the stats don't support the idea that we aren't gonna have a monarchy coz of this. A constitutional monarchy which is a state system might I add, coming down in the UK because a bunch of idiots from Murica online is quite literally not in the cards rn.
I don't want Catherine to come back if she isn't 100 percent well and I have seen people say she should just do the parade on st. Patrick's etc etc just to put the conspiracy theories to rest. And I don't in any way agree with it. A woman taking time for her health being expected to come out as a show pony for deranged idiots is not what I believe is right. Which I'll never believe is right. She's not just taking time for her health, she's had a major surgery one which probably doesn't even let her walk comfortably because everytime she tries to, her muscles contract and expand leading to pain and discomfort on the wound/stitches. Even smaller abdominal surgeries are literal bitches to get over let alone one with a long recovery period like this.
All this hoopla will die down as soon as she comes out. Why because most people spreading these rumors want them to be true, e.g. the Sussex squad and a lot more people who like 'drama' as they say themselves. And the rest of them are chronically online people who most likely don't have any life irl at all. And if institutions like Harvard and oxford are to be believed the most likely candidates for having distress, depression and other problems because of all of their personality being about the internet and their inability to connect with people irl. And the press will be all going gaga over her the day she steps out because they finally get their top cash source back. That woman has been used by the press for clicks and cash for the past 20 years and if they want to cry about it rn then they can, they arent the victims. They never were. Even a lot of british press members have been like you have all lost the plot if you believe all the conspiracy and what you're doing is not journalism at all, just plain fucking bullying. Watch all these papers and journalists calling her out rn change their tone post easter, just less than 3 weeks and watch it happen.
Omfg I just realised how long this turned out, I'm so sorry.
I'll just end it by saying that I completely get you when you say the drama and the noise gets to you because I have the same problem too. I just shut off everything and just come on here to post if I want, but mostly just to talk shit about stuff bothering me with a few very kind people I have been very fortunate to find here. If it gets too much and you just want to chat, about anything really, the ask box is always open and so are the private messages if you don't feel comfortable talking about it in front of everyone đđ
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*The leaders meeting Giovanni*
Candela: My fire gives me courage to beat you!
Blanche: I will calculate your every move to beat you.
Spark: I WILL FUCKING DESTROY YOUR BLOODLINE, YOU FUCKING BITCH! AAAAAHHHH
#pokemon#pokemon go#leader candela#leader blanche#leader spark#boss giovanni#team valor leader candela#team mystic leader blanche#team instinct leader spark#team rocket giovanni#I came up with the headcanon that out of the three#Spark has the worst rage issues#he's just good at hiding it
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Endearing: A Five Hargreeves Short
Summary: You and Five Hargreaves are two twenty-something-year-olds working for the Commission. Itâs dirty work; people are prone to accidents. One such accident leads to something blossoming between you.
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 700+
Note: So, I'm not really sure what it is, but I wrote it in a haze in the middle of the night and decided to go with it!
Read on AO3 âȘ Masterlist
Youâre sitting in a bed and breakfastâsomething much nicer than the shitty motels youâre both accustomed to in later decades. But the fifties are different; something the Commission is willing to splurge on.
Itâs still not great, by any means. You and Five still share a room. You still sit across from one another on disgustingly patterned furnitureâwhatever the ugly stepsister of paisley is. And, worst of all, you still canât hide your discomfort from Five. Not when heâs watching you this closely, like youâre a bug heâs waiting to dissect.
âYouâre injured.â Itâs more an observation than a question, and youâre not sure if youâre supposed to answer, but you do anyway.
âYes.â
Because Five is far too astute to be lied to, especially after heâs gotten the hint that somethingâs wrong. Itâs always been like that, ever since your partnership had started: kept under a microscopic gaze. Yet, heâs never made you uncomfortable. Heâs never pushed too far; though, his scathing remarks occasionally left something to be desired.
From his expression, you can tell heâs running through the events of the night, mentally searching for the flaw or anomaly that sparked the issue. He wonât find it; he wasnât there to see the altercation. A part of you is glad about that; Fiveâs worry-turned-rage can be unpredictable and⊠harsh at times. It would have made the entire mission more difficult.
Now, though, the two of you get a brief reprieve. A little time to heal, a little time to seethe.
He wouldâve spent the whole weekend drinking coffee and Irish whiskey if he hadnât known. He wouldâve brought you back a donutâŠ
Your train of thought is disrupted as he blinks across the room, appearing beside you with a look that is far too searching for the proximity. Heâll catch your surprise, your bashfulness, you just know it.
âWere you going to tell me?â It isnât quite accusatory, but something about the way he says it makes you feel like there isnât a correct answer.
You purse your lips. âNo.â
His expression is an ice-cream twist of hurt and offense, sprinkled with a hard candy coating of anger and insecurity. Somehow, though, his voice remains fairly level. âWhy?â
You sigh, looking away as though leaping through the window would be a viable option. Maybe⊠No. Definitely not. Your only choice is to explain. The sound of your voice barely overpowers your thundering heart. âYou were gonna go get coffee and donuts. I was gonna read my book. Relax. I didnât want to spend the whole weekend fighting about itâŠâ You canât bear to look at him, the embarrassment has you melting from the inside out.
There are several long, drawn out moments of silence in which you slowly inch toward death-by-mortification, but then Five speaks. âWould donuts⊠help you feel better?â
Itâs soft, hesitant, as though itâs the wrong thing for him to say, but it isnât. Itâs perfect and wonderful, and in that moment, you realize Five has never seen you injured before.
Your gaze jumps back to him. He swallows, the apples of his cheeks painting sunset pink. Yet, his gaze is still searching your expression, looking for any minute detail that would betray your thoughts.
This is concern, your mind supplies wondrously. Concern for you.
Something dizzying fogs your mind, and something honey-smooth and sickly sweet curls around your heart. Itâs then that you realize heâs hovering an inch shy of touching you, as though heâs afraid heâll poke the wrong spot and set you off like a bear trap.
Endearing.
Five Hargreaves has been many things in the time that youâve known him. Endearing has only shown up in short bursts, but it appears to stay as he does indeed go get you donuts while you bathe. It stays when he turns the radio down and helps you into bed. It stays when he leans against the headboard and reads your book aloud to you. It stays all night, when youâre feeling too jumpy to sleep, and he rests his cheek against your head and whispers stories about his family to you.
It stays all weekend.
It stays when he requests a rest period extension for the both of you.
It stays until youâre healed. Until the aches and pains have subsided. Until Five feels like he can touch you again without risking you shattering or bursting into flame.
It stays when the cold front blows through, rattling the windows and coating everything in a thick sheet of freezing rain. When he spoons you âfor warmthâ instead of blinking you to the Bahamas.
It stays until you kiss him, and he kisses you back. And then endearing just becomes Five.
Masterlist
#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves fanfic#number five#number five x reader#number five x you#number five fanfiction#number five fanfic#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy fanfic#the umbrella academy fanfiction#number five hargreeves#number five hargreeves x reader#silent writes
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I have a confession to make and that confession is that I am so excited for this game that I'm essentially rattling the bars of this cage! Especially for when Naja finds mc! And thinking about the many ways mc could react like, yes. Reach for them, obvs but what about the angst?? Flinching back from them, afraid to get hurt? Essentially going "Oh, cool cool, we can add hallucinations to my issues now bc Naja wouldn't be here, why would they be?" Ignoring them bc mc has become so broken and numb to it all that not even seeing Naja sparks joy anymore, what's it matter of they're here? Or, worse, the anger or blame or rage they could toss at Naja?? So many possibilities, so little time to consider which one would hurt the worst!
- signed, yet another naja simp (the nation grows)
Oh, another Naja simp... please get comfortable, we have all the fluff and angst you desire.
Yours are all very good scenarios, MCs could react in very different ways and I'm curious to see what all of you will go for...
#i have a feeling some of you will go for the angstiest one possible#... but who am I to stop you#naja simp anon
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I havenât really had a chance yet to reflect on my thoughts after watching 6x02 (I did post a speculation that managed to get a few things right, lol), but Iâve been stewing over an observation I donât believe Iâve seen discussed much elsewhere (if I missed anything, please direct me to it since I love reading othersâ takes). I put my thoughts below the cut because (as usual) theyâre kind of long.
(As always, I recognize that the writers are who they are and are almost assuredly not thinking about anything this deeply. I just enjoy speculating and analyzing things)
To me, the âhauntedâ apartment feels like it could potentially be read as a metaphor for Jugheadâs mind/heart. Heâs allowed Tabitha into this space, but it doesnât really seem like she has full access, or that she even spends a lot of time there or feels completely at home. There were a few moments that led me to this conclusion.
Early on in the episode, when Tabitha confronts Jughead about withholding the fact that their new abode was the site of a murder-suicide, she asks why he didn't tell her âthe truth.â
Jugheadâs responds, âBecause when you saw (the apartment), you fell in love with it.â
To me, it seems like heâs concealing aspects of himself from Tabitha, or that sheâs not willing to look too closely because sheâs fears what she might find. Or maybe (most likely), itâs a bit of both.
A similar theme is evident in the (slightly earlier) discovery of the secret nook/closet inside the apartment. Someone had effectively papered over it long ago, hiding it from sight. Inside, Tabitha and Jughead see many Scotch bottles cluttering the surfaces (âIsnât that what you used to drink?â Tabitha asks). But now, instead of liquor, they each contain model ships. The bottles themselves are dusty, but the ships themselves are perfectly preserved. Much has already been said about the symbolism here (not exactly subtle there, Riverdale), so Iâll move on (although Tabitha referring to them repeatedly as Jugheadâs âboatsâ was an interesting word choice).
The newly uncovered nook seems to âawakenâ something in both Jughead and Tabitha. For Jughead, it manifests in the first real creative spark heâs had after years of battling writerâs block. Itâs almost like the closet is a vault where he keeps his innermost self locked up or walled off. Heâs now able to access and write down his thoughts and ideas while heâs in this space (I personally donât believe this is due to the influence of âSam the Ghost,â although it could perhaps be related to an entirely different type of âghostâ haunting our hero).
For Tabitha, however, the nookâs discovery causes her to spiral further into seething resentment, jealousy, and rage. This is later largely blamed on the âghosts,â although any supposed âghostâ interference seemed very minimal to me, especially when compared to what Toni and Betty were dealing with in another storyline. Eventually, this all comes to a head in the now infamous and disquieting typewriter scene. That incident, in turn, leads to one of the saddest first âI love youâsâ Iâve personally watched, with two dead-eyed people kneeling defeatedly on a debris-littered floor in lighting I wouldnât exactly describe as auspicious. Again, much has already been said about this, so thereâs no need to elaborate further.
But, for me, the worst moment actually comes after these scenes. Instead of talking through (or even giving name to) the very real and legitimate issues that triggered the meltdown (and there were many), Jughead and Tabitha apparently decide itâd be better to simply wall off the nook again. They do this despite believing the supposed âghostsâ vacated the apartment after the âI love youâ exchange. They donât clear out the remaining bottles and other items left inside, they just hide the evidence from their sight. But itâs all still there with them, lurking behind the walls. (However, the typewriter remains on the outside and is taped together and somehow functional in the next episode)
As theyâre blocking off valuable square footage in their apartment, the pair has a depressing conversation in which Jughead remarks that love might just be âa series of tests.â While this notion isnât entirely off-base, Iâm not sure Iâd consider âsurvivingâ their first fight in the manner we were shown and told as worthy of passing any âtest.âÂ
Jughead then proceeds to say that he knows itâs âkind of bleak, but...âÂ
Tabitha finishes his sentence with â...Kind of sweet.â
To me, that sentiment about sums up their relationship. They both deserve better (everyone deserves better than this).
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A specter is haunting London and Washingtonâthe specter of the 1953 coup in Iran.
As diplomats on both sides of the Atlantic struggle to make sense of the national uprising that has erupted in Iran over the last four weeks, a debate is raging among them as to how Britain and the United States should respond to these protests.
Those doves who remain committed to negotiations for a nuclear deal with Tehran, despite the brutal suppression of peaceful protesters, argue that the United States and Britain should avoid meddling in Iranâs internal affairs, as they did in 1953.
At the opposite extreme, those hawks who have long advocated a policy of regime change in Iran elide the U.S. role in the 1953 coup or, more perversely, argue that Washington was right to intervene in 1953 and should do so again today.
For decades, it was historyâs worst-kept secret that the 1953 coup was orchestrated by Britainâs Secret Intelligence Service and the CIA.
When the popular constitutional government of Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddeq nationalized Iranâs British-owned oil industry in 1951, it set in train an Anglo-Iranian confrontation that ended with the toppling of Mosaddeq in a royalist coup in 1953.
The 1953 coup ended Iranâs parliamentary democracy and transformed the countryâs young shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, from a constitutional monarch to a dictator who would be overthrown in a revolution in 1979. The decision to intervene in Iran in 1953 was a disaster for Iranians and, in the long term, for both Britain and the United States.
But the misuse of the 1953 analogy is not only bad historyâit is also bad policy. Britain and the United States were on the wrong side of history in 1953. Now they have an opportunity to be on the right side of history.
Mosaddeq was a liberal nationalist who wanted an independent and democratic Iran. When he visited the United States in 1951 to meet with President Harry Truman and present Iranâs case against Britain at the United Nations, he also toured the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall in Philadelphia and said Iranians envied Americans for having won their freedom from the English crown in 1776. President Dwight Eisenhowerâs decision to back the 1953 coup was a profound betrayal of Mosaddeq and of Iranâs struggle for liberty.
There is a deep reluctance in London and Washington to do anything to draw attention to this inconvenient history. When the Green Movement erupted in Iran in 2009 over a fraudulent presidential contest that handed reelection to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and denied victory to reformists, the Obama administration avoided supporting the Iranian protesters because it feared the Islamic Republic would invoke 1953 to brand the protesters as agents of the CIA. While Iranian protesters demanded that their votes be counted, President Barack Obama remained largely mute, issuing only a belated condemnation of the brutal suppression of the protests. Obama himself has acknowledged that this was an error of judgment.
Jake Sullivan, President Joe Bidenâs national security advisor and a veteran of Obamaâs Iran team, seems determined not to repeat this mistake and has been outspoken in his support for the Iranian demonstrators. Yet there are those in the State Department who invoke 1953 to argue for ânoninterferenceâ and press for a nuclear deal with the Islamic Republic. This would be a tragic mistake.
The explosion of protests across Iran in the last month, in cities large and small, is unprecedented. Women are in the vanguard of this national uprising, sparked by the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini at the hands of Iranâs so-called morality police for an alleged minor infraction of the Islamic Republicâs compulsory veiling laws. But Iranian women are not alone. Lawyers in Tehran, students in Rasht, shopkeepers in Mashhad, workers in AbadanâIranians from all walks of life have joined their call for an end to the Islamic Republic.
For decades, Iranians gave the Islamic Republic opportunity after opportunity to peacefully reform itself. For decades, successive U.S. administrations, both Democrat and Republican, searched for an elusive Iranian moderate they could do business with. Twice Iranians elected moderate presidentsâMohammad Khatami and Hassan Rouhaniâon promises of reform at home and dĂ©tente with the West. Twice these moderates failed to deliver.
With the imposition of the hard-line conservative loyalist Ebrahim Raisi as president in a sham election in 2021, the hope of reform was extinguished, and the Islamic Republic has now reached a dead end. It is time to think the unthinkable and imagine a world without the Islamic Republic.
It would be a gross betrayal of Iranians if the United States, Britain, and the other signatories to the 2015 nuclear deal were to strike a deal with the Islamic Republic now and ease sanctions on a regime that has lost all legitimacy.
It would also be a betrayal of the democratic values that Britain and the United States claim to hold dear to help a regime that shoots protesting women in the streets and sends protesting schoolchildren to psychiatric institutions. The Islamic Republic has shown little enthusiasm for a nuclear deal, but its calculations may change as the situation grows more desperate inside Iran. The suspension of nuclear talks would send a clear message to Tehran that as long as the regime brutalizes protesters, it will not be business as usual in its dealings with Western powers.
A nuclear deal now with the Islamic Republic would render 2022 no less infamous than 1953 in history. Iranians are not asking for Anglo-American intervention in Iran, as happened nearly 70 years ago. Rather, this time, they are asking for Britain and the United States to stand on the side of the Iranian people as they fight to achieve the precious liberty that Mosaddeq dreamed of.
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