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#In. Different examples and circumstances at the very least.

birdofmay · 9 months

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And again, as always: It would be nice if you guys could stop making this about yourselves. Whenever we post about our particular experience, people who normally can speak, but used to struggle with it, or struggle under certain circumstances, add on something to talk about themselves. This eventually leads to people talking about something completely different, and ignoring what the post was about at first. Make your own post. We are constantly spoken over even in online spaces, and that's especially unfair because we struggle to communicate even more than other autistics. Don't derail posts about people who never learned to speak from the very beginning and won't learn it ever. That's unfair.

Sometimes I see people on here who want to be good allies to nonverbal autistics, but at the same time don't understand nonverbal autism at its core.

Most of us, who are nonverbal "from birth", struggle with language, to communicate, and to understand complex concepts. That's why we never learned to speak at all, ever.

But their strategy is to "hand us the mic" and ask "What are some misconceptions about nonverbal autism you'd like to discuss?" and expect us to respond.

"Misconceptions" is an abstract concept. Most of us can't just come up with an answer; my mind, for example, goes completely blank when I read this.

I wanted to talk about allies assuming that our brain works similar for at least 2 weeks, but it's only now that I am able to write something. 2 weeks!

Sure, there are autistics who can't speak due to apraxia, and who don't struggle with language otherwise, apart from the "not being able to speak with their mouth" part. But that's rare.

Even my ability to express myself well is rare. I am not your average nonverbal autistic. I am very skilled compared to the rest of us.

One thing about "never learning to speak" is that most of us really really struggle with language, and with understanding big words and topics. Not everyone, but many of us. That's why most of us aren't on social media.

Whenever I write "educational" posts, my inbox is flooded with follow up questions I just can't answer without help. Because most of the time I don't understand the text. I regularly have to close my inbox because people assume that I can process the text and respond like everyone else can. But having these abilities is an exception within autistics who never learned to speak from the very beginning. It seems normal, but those people just are the loudest. Because they're on social media and love to participate in discussions.

Most of us can't do that.

I'm glad that I made some speaking friends here who made an effort to understand us thoroughly, and they now often repeat what we think and want "but louder". Listen to them, most of us can't advocate for ourselves. They're not speaking over us, they're helping us to communicate without draining our energy.

And for everything else I have some posts linked in my pinned post because I can't just participate in discussions.

#long post

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 4 days

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

I feel like advice on loneliness comes in only three flavors:

"It's all mindset, learn to embrace being alone and you'll never feel lonely!"

"Your head is lying to you, you have friends and they love you!"

"Here's a list of places you can go to hang out with people and make new friends!"

Those are usually well-meant and I'm sure there are situations where they do help someone feel better - but they're definitely not universally applicable.

The first one is even plain wrong: connection is a basic human need. You can't just "change your mindset" and turn that off, the same way you can't turn off your need for food or air or mental stimulation. Humans are group animals. We absolutely need social interactions to stay healthy and sane. It is true that some people do not need a large number of friends and are happiest with just one or two close friends, and it is also true that some people prefer to fulfill their social needs in other ways than what's traditionally defined as friendship - but that's not something you can (or should) try to train yourself to do, that's just natural differences and preferences!

The only thing you could "train" yourself to do would be to learn to ignore your social needs and bury them deep down under layers of denial... and you don't need me to explain to you why that's a very unhealthy idea. It's sad enough that so many people have to do that to not lose their minds in loneliness, we certainly don't need to celebrate an unhealthy coping skill as a "superior mindset".

The other two at least get a bit closer to the truth: the solution for your unmet need is not to kill the need, but to fulfill it... but that's easier said than done, isn't it?

After all, "Don't worry, your friends love you!" doesn't help if you have no friends. Loneliness is not always "all in your head": Maybe you moved to a new place and don't know anyone there. Or you cut off contact with all your friends after a big fight. Or you grew up neurodivergent (or got mentally ill at a young age) and had no chance to learn how to make friends at the age most kids do, and by now you have been friendless for so long you don't even know where to start.

Same with "just go to a bar and talk to some new people" or "Take a pottery class and you'll meet some interesting people there" - that's not factually wrong, but also not helpful if the reason you feel lonely is that you struggle to make friends (or even struggle to just talk to people). Which can also be part of neurodivergence or mental illness, or just be a part of your personality (shyness), or be a result of isolating circumstances (like having spent a lot of time in a closed environment, for example a long hospital stay, and now feeling unsure how to connect with people outside of that environment).

And those are just a few of the many, many possible explanations why someone may be lonely that require a more individualized approach - which is why we can’t solve loneliness with any one-size-fits-all solution.

That may be a somewhat disappointing-sounding conclusion in a letter on loneliness, so let me also tell you: hope and support are always within reach, even if it might take some time and patience to find them. The key is to remember that your feelings are valid and that you're not alone in your struggle.

First, recognize that admitting that you feel lonely, and wanting to take action based on that feeling, is a sign of strength, not weakness. You’re pretty insightful for recognizing your loneliness and super brave for wanting to reach out!

Secondly, be kind to yourself and allow yourself to take small steps. Small, actually manageable steps are crucial in any healing journey! If it’s not an option to just go to the bar or that pottery class, then it’s okay to start somewhere else. Maybe a therapist, a support group, or even online communities can be valuable “training sessions” for social connections. Even reaching out to one single person can make a significant difference over time. Your journey to finding companionship and connection might be different from someone else’s, but that doesn't make it any less valid (or achievable!).

Lastly, do consider embracing new activities that you may enjoy - but not just for the sake of meeting others. It’s important to nurture your own happiness and well-being when you’re feeling lonely. Those can be activities you can try out alone and even at home, for now! Anything that enriches your life is good. Long down the road, maybe it will lead to opportunities to connect with others, but even if it doesn’t: it’s important to incorporate new experiences into your life.

While there isn't a universal solution to loneliness, I truly believe there is a path forward for everyone. It's all about finding what works for you.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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dduane · 4 months

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I graduated with a meteorology degree recently and I’m curious: have you ever thought about how wizards would respond to climate change?

The short answer: very carefully.

The longer answer:

As would befit a wizard setting out to solve a problem, one has to first fully tease out the various associated difficulties attached around the fringes of the problem... so that you don't (a) make the main problem worse when you start to intervene, and (b) make the ancillary problems worse too. (As one of those unwritten rules of wizardry is There is never just one problem.)

The first thing that becomes obvious is that "climate change" is way too big a thing, with too many causes, to just sit down and construct a wizardry to make the whole thing go away. (Or back to some arbitrary "reset" point.) You have to pick a spot—in the problem-solving sense of the term—to start an intervention that's within your power, or the ability of the group of wizards you're working with, to successfully complete. You also need to check that the wizardry you're planning won't interact badly with one that might already be running in the area, or (later) with a different one that's still in the planning stages. You're going to need to find a way to make it self-sustaining, or to channel sustenance into it from some other aspect of the ecosystem that's already working, with no danger of that other aspect's own persistence being threatened. And if your wizardry affects a large enough region, biome, or number of lives, you're absolutely going to have to clear it with Earth's Planetary wizard.

This isn't just a matter of keeping spell logistics from colliding, either. There are always ethical constraints to consider. And one of the main ones, since we're working in a planetary culture that's mostly sevarfrith, is that whatever intervention you're planning must not be liable to attract attention to itself. When running and producing its desired effects, it must appear (at least on the surface) to flow correctly from the presently understood science surrounding climate change.

For example: if it was possible to construct a wizardry powerful enough to immediately reduce the global average temperature by, oh, half a degree Centigrade—leaving aside the godawful storms and other climatic results that would more or less immediately ensue—such an intervention would play straight into the hands of climate change deniers. These people would (with reason, which you gave them!) promptly start bleating triumphantly, "See, we told you it was a blip!" And in the aftermath of this, sure enough, everybody goes back to their naughty carbon-spewing ways, and you've blown a lot of energy on a wizardry that's come to nothing in the long term... and your Planetary is very out of sorts with you.

What would be seen as far better practice would be to find ways to enhance already-working efforts at specific, targeted reductions or repairs. A wizardly intervention that boosts something of this sort into working a little better, a little faster, than it might have otherwise, will potentially attract far less attention than bolder or more speedily effective moves... and will also in the long run prove far less culturally destabilizing.

(There's a throwaway mention of something thematically similar to this approach in A Wizard of Mars. In this brief bit of background, it's revealed that wizards with puffer brushes and carefully-protected cans of "canned air" make a habit of popping up to the Red Planet in the wake of known dust storms, and blowing clean(er) the solar panels of Mars probes that need a little help of this kind to keep running. The dust storms provide perfectly plausible deniability for the improved operational status: the scientists back on Earth are pleased enough that their probes are able to keep running that no one bothers to question the circumstances too closely: and the wizards get to reassure the probes, en passant, that their ongoing efforts are appreciated. It's a win-win situation all round.)

On the other hand: in situations where current science is as yet unable to detect changes occurring, there's still some room for maneuver. For example, again in Wizard of Mars, there's some discussion of the great 19th-century wizardry now referred to as the Gibraltar Passthrough Intervention. At the time the famous hydromage and Planetary wizard Angelina Pellegrino enacted this work, no Earthly science was capable of detecting except in extremely gross detail exactly what had been going wrong with seawater exchange between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. And no science then extant was capable of detecting what was going on down by the Camarinal Sill to put the problem right... or at least keep it from getting any worse.

Nowadays, of course, the Passthrough (which I gather from the Errantry Concordance entry is still operational in YWverse-canon) has been running for so long that it's routinely mistaken by oceanic specialists for a natural phenomenon: some kind of historical shift in the thermohalic flows between the Atlantic and the Med, kicked off secondary to (insert handwave here) European subsurface tectonics, or previous ill-understood and undocumented solar mechanics, or some other damn thing. ...Sunspots! That's the ticket; let's blame sunspots. At least the flow between the two bodies isn't getting any worse, and that's what counts, isn't it? :)))))

So the whole point, from the wizardly point of view, would be to enact beneficial change to our planet's current nasty situation in some manner that can't be spotted happening... but also won't upend or cast into disrepute what we already know about climate science. Because seriously, there's a lot to do, and as this emergency unfolds, the planet needs all the help it can get. And sometimes the work of nonwizards of good will is the best, and least entropic, intervention available.

Hope this has shed some light!

#Young Wizards meta #wizardry #climate change

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wherevenusholdssomeofficespace · 9 months

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Candace really sees herself as the boring one in her family. And usually, at least to the audience she is. She’s a butt monkey and a stick in the mud. But I think in literally any other context, she would probably be the coolest person ever.

Candace is probably the jock of the family. I don’t really have enough immediate evidence to support this. But where Phineas and Ferb are creative, mechanical geniuses. Candace is very tough for a 15 year old. (I mean, they have all been shown to be varying degrees of extremely athletic, Baljeet climbing a mountain anyone but I think Candace takes the cake). Obviously that is best shown in Across the 2nd Dimension with 2D Candace. While obviously there are differences between the characters, 1D Candace probably isn’t incapable of these things, if she had grown up under the same circumstances.

I mean. Candace fought an alligator in the sewers, she took down aliens with nothing but a t-shirt canon once, and with nothing but a megaphone another time. She can drag her mother around effortlessly and can swim for miles, apparently can do a quintuple-somersault backflip-jacknife-swandive, can disassemble a train. I think the only thing that keeps her from being the most terrifying person in the tri-state area that she is just as prone to panicking and she spends most of her time fighting an unwinnable battle against the universe itself. And gets pretty close sometimes. But when she doesn’t, when she’s more exasperated than scared. She kicks butt.

Throw in the fact she can play an absurd number of musical instruments, can mimic Klimpaloon, apparently can write a good enough essay to win a mayor of the day competition, was the Rutabaga princess, has a notable habit of becoming queen of aliens, and a decent track record in fighting aliens.

Things don't often go wrong for Phineas and Ferb, but when things do go wrong, Candace is usually the one to save them (at least from their perspective). In Mind Share, It's About Time, Traffic Cam Caper,

So of course Phineas and Ferb thinks she’s cool. They don’t see her obsession with busting them. They see her participation. While we don’t see a lot outside of the typical daily invention and bust attempt. When we do see outside it (evenings for example), we do sometimes see a Candace who enjoys hanging out with her brothers. We see Candace how Phineas and Ferb see her. That mug, shows us how they see her.

#candace flynn #pnf #phineas and ferb

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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Hello! It's me again. I'm probably pestering you, lol. I think a lotta people give flack for the Octavinelle trio being ruthless and "behaving like a Mafia." But I think considering where they live it makes sense? They live in the ocean. And the ocean is a kill or be killed environment, where you have to the strongest and toughest. If not? You at least have to be quick witted and unable to be seen, otherwise you'll be dead. If the trio become too soft they'll be fish meat.

I think the fandom is pretty divided when it comes to perceptions of what the Coral Sea is like. On one hand, you have the people who think of it as like living in Atlantica, which is basically just like living in a peaceful and pretty city (but underwater). Then you have the people who think the environment would be so different it would shape its inhabitants to behave differently as well. The second one tends to be a darker or grittier interpretation which aknowledges dangers such as other undersea creatures and treacherous living conditions.

Personally, I lean on and enjoy the latter, since TWST rarely ever designs purely for the aesthetic of it; one example of this is how the twins are confirmed to be bioluminescent in the Magical Archives. This is a decision that was not made “because it would look cool”, but because many deep sea creatures rely on this trait to intimidate potential predators. It would make more sense for the cold waters of the Coral Sea to change its people rather than merfolks’ cities simply being civilizations moved several leagues under, especially seeing TWST time and time again really consider the geography and history of each new location and how those inform the cultures that form there.

However, I want to state that the Coral Sea would be very different depending on which area you’re in, just like how there are nice parts and bad parts of a city. It’s not ALL nice or ALL bad. For example, the Atlantica Museum in book 3 appears to be in a more photic zone, so there’s more sunlight and it appears pleasant to be in. Even the merpeople there seem to be different than the Octatrio; they less so resemble specific sea creatures and are much more akin to being human-like. We have yet to really see how the benthic zones are—but we do know they must be harsher, since Floyd has mentioned exploring shipwrecks and various dangers there (like sharks).

I also want to point out that there are subtle signs in dialogue which could imply merpeople prefer traits that promote survivability and adaptability in the ocean. Azul’s bullies are noted to taunt him for his weight, but also for his bulky tentacles and inky tears. Now why those traits specifically??? Because these impede his ability to swim swiftly (making it harder to escape danger) and easily give away his location (if he’s in hiding or camoflauging).

I’ve seen others suggest that maybe these comments are because of racism against octopus merpeople, who are a rare kind of merfolk. This is entirely possible, yes! But thinking about it like that… Isn’t it also possible that there aren’t a lot of octopus merpeople at the moment because it’s more difficult for them to escape or to hide from predators? Which then informs and perpetuates preexisting prejudices. In this context (plus the bullying), it makes sense why Azul may have “hardened” as a defense and survival mechanism. The same goes for the twins, who were explicitly taught how to defend themselves (although this also goes into the Leech mob family theory, which is a whole separate matter) and have often made references to fighting others in the Coral Sea. Their upbringings also play a part in their personalities, but so does the environment they grew up in. Like Azul and the twins, you’d have to harden mentally or physically to some degree to ensure your survival through tough circumstances.

It’s hard to say for sure though! A lot of this is speculation based on current but infrequent lore, and the Octatrio themselves are a very small portion of all merfolk. They may not be representative of the behaviors of all other merpeople, and we should keep this in mind when referring to them as our exemplars. That’s why I’ve been hoping for a Coral Sea hometown event so we have a more concrete idea of what life under the sea is like 😭

#twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Octavinelle #Floyd Leech #Tweels #Jade Leech #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #book 3 spoilers #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory

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saturnsbabyboii · 10 months

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🦩Astro Observations for When the Bare minimum is Your Best🦩

🦩The Neptune Sextile Pluto to me is such an interesting aspect. For one, it is an anomaly for it being cross generational yet only occur during less than 25% of a generational birth timeline. The second being that it occurs during significant periods of history (i.e. The escalation of WWII in 1942). People that have had an influence on many generations are born with this aspect.

🦩The Polarity between Fire/Air dom Scorpio vs Earth/Water dom Scorpio is unbelievable.

🦩Pluto entering Aquarius (plus being in retrograde) and Uranus in Taurus has been proving to be karmic and transformative for the Pluto Scorpio generation. Many celebrities are continued to be exposed for bad behavior (sometimes it could be down right criminal). This isn't anything new, but it has been happening to people that no one suspected or the affected have kept quiet about it or were unheard until now.

🦩 Sun Inconjunct Saturn people almost always have painful stories yet they're never told. The restrictions that Saturn brings on the Sun can suggest everything from a controlling family, chronic loneliness, expected to follow a pathology, or being forced into a life that can only be referred to as inauthentic at the least. Unlike most, these people need to learn to unbecome everything that have been placed on them by others. As a result, they usually posses the biggest sense of perseverance and persistence. With time and as they accept that they have the right to hold court and presence in life, they will start to shine. Saturn is a late boomer, so they usually reap it's fruits later in life. Love that old age radiance.

🦩The asteroid Pallas Athena (2) gives an insight to the wisdom and knowledge we carried from our past lives. It recognizes patterns, habits, cycles and thoughts. It's our trigger and reason for when we experience "Deja Vu". The sign it's in, the house it resides in, the aspects it makes tell us how and through what that wisdom and knowledge is channeled and received.

🦩People with Neptune in Mutable houses (3rd, 6th, 9th, 12th) are more susceptible to indoctrination. They're usually a part of a new age cult.

🦩When the Moon is in a positive aspect to one of either Venus or Mars but a harsh aspect to the other (For example, Moon Trine Venus but Moon Opposing Mars), the person emotional needs, romantic attraction and sexual attraction would always be at odds with one another. With a highly developed person, this is usually resolved by communicating your needs and desires (possibly being part of the BDSM or kink community). In underdeveloped individuals, this would create an unsatisfied person that is hard to please or get to know, fear of intimacy, and (my fav) being an all around incel.

🦩Scorpio in the 10th/Pluto in the 10th natives might develop a reputation as the "other woman/man/one" or could be entangled in a messy relationship publicly.

🦩Although both the Square and Opposition aspects are considered "harsh" or challenging, they represent a different kind respectively. The Square aspect is generally external in its characteristics. When it's present, the native usually deals with adversarial circumstances in relation to the placements/houses. In contrast, the Opposition aspect is internal and entail a difficulty understanding, reflecting or aligning that conflict within. For example, a square aspect between Mercury and Uranus suggests a more restrictive environment where one could be punished for speaking the truth and expressing their mind. Meanwhile, an opposition aspect between Mercury and Uranus suggest difficulty connecting and communicating with the world around.

🦩Beware of people you meet during the period between your Jupiter return and Saturn return. It's very likely they would prove to be a testament to your growth and attunement. In some cases, you may find yourself on the receiving end of a situation where you have been the other person in the past. (i.e. Getting ghosted more often if you ghosted many before)

🦩I found that in one sided relationships, in synastry one person planets are usually more aspected than the other one.

🦩Signs from each element complete each other, for when they stand alone you'll find that they desire what the others posses. For example, with Earth signs you'll find that both Virgo and Capricorn desire the stability that Taurus posses. Although they both find it through work, Virgo gets it from the stability of routine, while Capricorn get it from the financial security. The same can be said for Virgo's vigor and Capricorn's efficiency.

🦩A person with an unaspected mean Lilith (h12) tend be the least petty and vengeful person. If their other placements prove otherwise, then their pettiness would be circumstantial rather than passive and constant in nature. This is because Lilith is only activated when aspected.

Byeeeee 💕

#astrology #astro observations #astrology notes #astro notes #astrology observations

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legendofzoodles · 3 months

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This post is a little gory, reader discretion is advised.

Sky: Would you help me hide a body?

Hyrule: No I am not helping you! I want nothing to do with this!

Hyrule: [curious] ...But why? Is hiding bodies a fad in society now? Dang I'm really out of touch.

Sky: In what Hyrule is that a fad?!

Wild: [coughs]

—

Time: [sighing] I'm always cleaning up after you boys.

Sky: Wait Old man it was just—

Time: [pulling a trash bag from his adventure pouch] Where is it?

—

Wild: Hide...a body? O-Okay sure, I'll help you...

Wild: [muttering] Oh but not all of it I'm sure I could find uses for at least a few of the body parts...

—

Wind: [thumb up] Yeah of course! We'll just toss it into the ocean.

Sky: Ok but what if the Hyrule was landlocked...?

Wind: What if what? I'm a pirate.

Sky: Is that really how it works?!

—

Warriors: [polishing his sword] Huh? Dispose of a body? I can do that.

Sky: You...can?

Warriors: [glancing at his reflection] Eliminating traitors is a bit sporadic with its state funding so, I've had to get my hands dirty.

Sky: ...oh buddy.

—

Legend: Whose body is it? Under what circumstance? Who did the killing?

Legend: Sorry, I need to know if I should do it with enthusiasm or not.

Sky: [voice crack] Ledge...

Legend: Well I'm sorry, you keep telling me to find joys in life. I am trying!

—

Twilight: A-A body?! W-Why would you want me to...?!

Twilight: Wait, this one of Wild's pranks? Is he in that bush with his Sheikah Slate?

—

Four: [deadpan] Here's a list of ten efficient ways to dispose of a body.

Four: [very deadpan] It was my best self study project when I was a kid.

Four: [we all know this is Vio talking] The example body wasn't human, but that can't be too different.

Sky: [disturbed] ...No you can have it back. That question was just...

Warriors: [dutiful in improving his craft] Great can I have it?

—

Sky: Ok this is the last hypothetical! Between Wind's magic box thought experiment, Four's out of context question and this?! We're clearly really bad at these.

Twilight: Not sure what kind of responses you were expecting with that one to be honest.

Sky: ...You're right this one's on me.

~~~

Thanks for reading! Based off this

Sky got the fun hypothetical question from a friendly bar patron.

Wild coughed in that first one because with the restoration of his Hyrule ground in Hyrule field is being built on and, well, they are unearthing a lot of 100 year old skeletons. Not exactly hiding bodies, but...

Masterlist

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nostalgebraist · 4 months

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information flow in transformers

In machine learning, the transformer architecture is a very commonly used type of neural network model. Many of the well-known neural nets introduced in the last few years use this architecture, including GPT-2, GPT-3, and GPT-4.

This post is about the way that computation is structured inside of a transformer.

Internally, these models pass information around in a constrained way that feels strange and limited at first glance.

Specifically, inside the "program" implemented by a transformer, each segment of "code" can only access a subset of the program's "state." If the program computes a value, and writes it into the state, that doesn't make value available to any block of code that might run after the write; instead, only some operations can access the value, while others are prohibited from seeing it.

This sounds vaguely like the kind of constraint that human programmers often put on themselves: "separation of concerns," "no global variables," "your function should only take the inputs it needs," that sort of thing.

However, the apparent analogy is misleading. The transformer constraints don't look much like anything that a human programmer would write, at least under normal circumstances. And the rationale behind them is very different from "modularity" or "separation of concerns."

(Domain experts know all about this already -- this is a pedagogical post for everyone else.)

1. setting the stage

For concreteness, let's think about a transformer that is a causal language model.

So, something like GPT-3, or the model that wrote text for @nostalgebraist-autoresponder.

Roughly speaking, this model's input is a sequence of words, like ["Fido", "is", "a", "dog"].

Since the model needs to know the order the words come in, we'll include an integer offset alongside each word, specifying the position of this element in the sequence. So, in full, our example input is

[ ("Fido", 0), ("is", 1), ("a", 2), ("dog", 3), ]

The model itself -- the neural network -- can be viewed as a single long function, which operates on a single element of the sequence. Its task is to output the next element.

Let's call the function f. If f does its job perfectly, then when applied to our example sequence, we will have

f("Fido", 0) = "is" f("is", 1) = "a" f("a", 2) = "dog"

(Note: I've omitted the index from the output type, since it's always obvious what the next index is. Also, in reality the output type is a probability distribution over words, not just a word; the goal is to put high probability on the next word. I'm ignoring this to simplify exposition.)

You may have noticed something: as written, this seems impossible!

Like, how is the function supposed to know that after ("a", 2), the next word is "dog"!? The word "a" could be followed by all sorts of things.

What makes "dog" likely, in this case, is the fact that we're talking about someone named "Fido."

That information isn't contained in ("a", 2). To do the right thing here, you need info from the whole sequence thus far -- from "Fido is a", as opposed to just "a".

How can f get this information, if its input is just a single word and an index?

This is possible because f isn't a pure function. The program has an internal state, which f can access and modify.

But f doesn't just have arbitrary read/write access to the state. Its access is constrained, in a very specific sort of way.

2. transformer-style programming

Let's get more specific about the program state.

The state consists of a series of distinct "memory regions" or "blocks," which have an order assigned to them.

Let's use the notation memory_i for these. The first block is memory_0, the second is memory_1, and so on.

In practice, a small transformer might have around 10 of these blocks, while a very large one might have 100 or more.

Each block contains a separate data-storage "cell" for each offset in the sequence.

For example, memory_0 contains a cell for position 0 ("Fido" in our example text), and a cell for position 1 ("is"), and so on. Meanwhile, memory_1 contains its own, distinct cells for each of these positions. And so does memory_2, etc.

So the overall layout looks like:

memory_0: [cell 0, cell 1, ...] memory_1: [cell 0, cell 1, ...] [...]

Our function f can interact with this program state. But it must do so in a way that conforms to a set of rules.

Here are the rules:

The function can only interact with the blocks by using a specific instruction.

This instruction is an "atomic write+read". It writes data to a block, then reads data from that block for f to use.

When the instruction writes data, it goes in the cell specified in the function offset argument. That is, the "i" in f(..., i).

When the instruction reads data, the data comes from all cells up to and including the offset argument.

The function must call the instruction exactly once for each block.

These calls must happen in order. For example, you can't do the call for memory_1 until you've done the one for memory_0.

Here's some pseudo-code, showing a generic computation of this kind:

f(x, i) { calculate some things using x and i; // next 2 lines are a single instruction write to memory_0 at position i; z0 = read from memory_0 at positions 0...i; calculate some things using x, i, and z0; // next 2 lines are a single instruction write to memory_1 at position i; z1 = read from memory_1 at positions 0...i; calculate some things using x, i, z0, and z1; [etc.] }

The rules impose a tradeoff between the amount of processing required to produce a value, and how early the value can be accessed within the function body.

Consider the moment when data is written to memory_0. This happens before anything is read (even from memory_0 itself).

So the data in memory_0 has been computed only on the basis of individual inputs like ("a," 2). It can't leverage any information about multiple words and how they relate to one another.

But just after the write to memory_0, there's a read from memory_0. This read pulls in data computed by f when it ran on all the earlier words in the sequence.

If we're processing ("a", 2) in our example, then this is the point where our code is first able to access facts like "the word 'Fido' appeared earlier in the text."

However, we still know less than we might prefer.

Recall that memory_0 gets written before anything gets read. The data living there only reflects what f knows before it can see all the other words, while it still only has access to the one word that appeared in its input.

The data we've just read does not contain a holistic, "fully processed" representation of the whole sequence so far ("Fido is a"). Instead, it contains:

a representation of ("Fido", 0) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

a representation of ("is", 1) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

a representation of ("a", 2) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

Now, once we get to memory_1, we will no longer face this problem. Stuff in memory_1 gets computed with the benefit of whatever was in memory_0. The step that computes it can "see all the words at once."

Nonetheless, the whole function is affected by a generalized version of the same quirk.

All else being equal, data stored in later blocks ought to be more useful. Suppose for instance that

memory_4 gets read/written 20% of the way through the function body, and

memory_16 gets read/written 80% of the way through the function body

Here, strictly more computation can be leveraged to produce the data in memory_16. Calculations which are simple enough to fit in the program, but too complex to fit in just 20% of the program, can be stored in memory_16 but not in memory_4.

All else being equal, then, we'd prefer to read from memory_16 rather than memory_4 if possible.

But in fact, we can only read from memory_16 once -- at a point 80% of the way through the code, when the read/write happens for that block.

The general picture looks like:

The early parts of the function can see and leverage what got computed earlier in the sequence -- by the same early parts of the function. This data is relatively "weak," since not much computation went into it. But, by the same token, we have plenty of time to further process it.

The late parts of the function can see and leverage what got computed earlier in the sequence -- by the same late parts of the function. This data is relatively "strong," since lots of computation went into it. But, by the same token, we don't have much time left to further process it.

3. why?

There are multiple ways you can "run" the program specified by f.

Here's one way, which is used when generating text, and which matches popular intuitions about how language models work:

First, we run f("Fido", 0) from start to end. The function returns "is." As a side effect, it populates cell 0 of every memory block.

Next, we run f("is", 1) from start to end. The function returns "a." As a side effect, it populates cell 1 of every memory block.

Etc.

If we're running the code like this, the constraints described earlier feel weird and pointlessly restrictive.

By the time we're running f("is", 1), we've already populated some data into every memory block, all the way up to memory_16 or whatever.

This data is already there, and contains lots of useful insights.

And yet, during the function call f("is", 1), we "forget about" this data -- only to progressively remember it again, block by block. The early parts of this call have only memory_0 to play with, and then memory_1, etc. Only at the end do we allow access to the juicy, extensively processed results that occupy the final blocks.

Why? Why not just let this call read memory_16 immediately, on the first line of code? The data is sitting there, ready to be used!

Why? Because the constraint enables a second way of running this program.

The second way is equivalent to the first, in the sense of producing the same outputs. But instead of processing one word at a time, it processes a whole sequence of words, in parallel.

Here's how it works:

In parallel, run f("Fido", 0) and f("is", 1) and f("a", 2), up until the first write+read instruction. You can do this because the functions are causally independent of one another, up to this point. We now have 3 copies of f, each at the same "line of code": the first write+read instruction.

Perform the write part of the instruction for all the copies, in parallel. This populates cells 0, 1 and 2 of memory_0.

Perform the read part of the instruction for all the copies, in parallel. Each copy of f receives some of the data just written to memory_0, covering offsets up to its own. For instance, f("is", 1) gets data from cells 0 and 1.

In parallel, continue running the 3 copies of f, covering the code between the first write+read instruction and the second.

Perform the second write. This populates cells 0, 1 and 2 of memory_1.

Perform the second read.

Repeat like this until done.

Observe that mode of operation only works if you have a complete input sequence ready before you run anything.

(You can't parallelize over later positions in the sequence if you don't know, yet, what words they contain.)

So, this won't work when the model is generating text, word by word.

But it will work if you have a bunch of texts, and you want to process those texts with the model, for the sake of updating the model so it does a better job of predicting them.

This is called "training," and it's how neural nets get made in the first place. In our programming analogy, it's how the code inside the function body gets written.

The fact that we can train in parallel over the sequence is a huge deal, and probably accounts for most (or even all) of the benefit that transformers have over earlier architectures like RNNs.

Accelerators like GPUs are really good at doing the kinds of calculations that happen inside neural nets, in parallel.

So if you can make your training process more parallel, you can effectively multiply the computing power available to it, for free. (I'm omitting many caveats here -- see this great post for details.)

Transformer training isn't maximally parallel. It's still sequential in one "dimension," namely the layers, which correspond to our write+read steps here. You can't parallelize those.

But it is, at least, parallel along some dimension, namely the sequence dimension.

The older RNN architecture, by contrast, was inherently sequential along both these dimensions. Training an RNN is, effectively, a nested for loop. But training a transformer is just a regular, single for loop.

4. tying it together

The "magical" thing about this setup is that both ways of running the model do the same thing. You are, literally, doing the same exact computation. The function can't tell whether it is being run one way or the other.

This is crucial, because we want the training process -- which uses the parallel mode -- to teach the model how to perform generation, which uses the sequential mode. Since both modes look the same from the model's perspective, this works.

This constraint -- that the code can run in parallel over the sequence, and that this must do the same thing as running it sequentially -- is the reason for everything else we noted above.

Earlier, we asked: why can't we allow later (in the sequence) invocations of f to read earlier data out of blocks like memory_16 immediately, on "the first line of code"?

And the answer is: because that would break parallelism. You'd have to run f("Fido", 0) all the way through before even starting to run f("is", 1).

By structuring the computation in this specific way, we provide the model with the benefits of recurrence -- writing things down at earlier positions, accessing them at later positions, and writing further things down which can be accessed even later -- while breaking the sequential dependencies that would ordinarily prevent a recurrent calculation from being executed in parallel.

In other words, we've found a way to create an iterative function that takes its own outputs as input -- and does so repeatedly, producing longer and longer outputs to be read off by its next invocation -- with the property that this iteration can be run in parallel.

We can run the first 10% of every iteration -- of f() and f(f()) and f(f(f())) and so on -- at the same time, before we know what will happen in the later stages of any iteration.

The call f(f()) uses all the information handed to it by f() -- eventually. But it cannot make any requests for information that would leave itself idling, waiting for f() to fully complete.

Whenever f(f()) needs a value computed by f(), it is always the value that f() -- running alongside f(f()), simultaneously -- has just written down, a mere moment ago.

No dead time, no idling, no waiting-for-the-other-guy-to-finish.

p.s.

The "memory blocks" here correspond to what are called "keys and values" in usual transformer lingo.

If you've heard the term "KV cache," it refers to the contents of the memory blocks during generation, when we're running in "sequential mode."

Usually, during generation, one keeps this state in memory and appends a new cell to each block whenever a new token is generated (and, as a result, the sequence gets longer by 1).

This is called "caching" to contrast it with the worse approach of throwing away the block contents after each generated token, and then re-generating them by running f on the whole sequence so far (not just the latest token). And then having to do that over and over, once per generated token.

#ai tag #is there some standard CS name for the thing i'm talking about here?#i feel like there should be #but i never heard people mention it #(or at least i've never heard people mention it in a way that made the connection with transformers clear)

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traumasurvivors · 10 months

Text

Here's a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I've also put it below the read more for people that don't like external links.

When it comes to healing from trauma, there are a lot of emotions an individual may feel. One of these emotions is anger. Anger is one of the emotions I see invalidated the most. For example, I’ve been told that being angry is “letting the person who hurt me win.” I’ve been told that I’m only hurting myself with my anger and that it’s holding me back from healing. All of these assumptions were wrong.

Anger is often viewed as a bad thing because it can drive a lot of unpleasant behaviours but it can be used for good. While anger can hurt you and others, it doesn’t have to. There is a difference between destructive anger and constructive anger. Destructive anger is often expressed in a way that causes harm to yourself or others whereas constructive anger can be used to better understand your situation and figure out your needs. Constructive anger can be a way to show respect for yourself.

For example, if you’re in a situation with a friend where they do something that makes you angry (for example: cancelling plans, forgetting an important date, etc), constructive anger may involve you stepping away from the situation to figure out the cause of your anger (for example: you feel their actions imply you’re not important to them) so that you can then sit down with your friend and communicate in a calm manner. This may allow your relationship to grow and build with a better understanding of each other. Destructive anger in this situation may involve you yelling at your friend and insulting them, which will likely damage or destroy the relationship. If the hurt your friend has caused makes you want to re-evaluate your friendship, this is valid and there are still constructive ways to end a friendship that will cause the least amount of hurt for all involved. It is also important to note that ignoring the anger and bottling up is likely to cause a bigger blow up down the line or cause “overreactions” to other circumstances.

If anger is bottled up, it can end up coming out unintentionally. You might find you’re getting much angrier at everyday annoyances and disagreements than you might think reasonable. People might push you away or respond badly to your anger, because they feel they do not deserve it - and looking back later, you might feel they don’t deserve it, either. However, because of the anger you’re holding back, you can’t see that in the moment. This is why it is important to think and consider your anger, and listen to what it’s trying to tell you. I have found asking questions of myself to analyze my anger can help, such as in an anger inventory like this one.

While many people see anger as an emotion that causes people to lash out and destroy things, anger can also help to motivate people to create new things. Marches to “Take back the night”, or for “gay pride” have much of their motivation based in anger at injustice and oppression. New laws to better protect survivors of domestic abuse or otherwise help society are often driven by people feeling a huge amount of anger. Properly harnessed, anger can help to take action to change things for the better.

On a more personal level, anger can also be a motivator to improve one’s own life. Many people have used the anger they felt at those who put them down as a motivation toward success. That success might be completing schooling, winning an international athletic competition or publishing a novel. One thing all of those have in common is that they are rarely possible to do with only a little time or a little effort. They are time-consuming tasks which usually require months if not years of work. They can be easy to give up on without motivation - and for many, anger is a big help to keeping that motivation.

It took me years to feel anger. For the first while, I felt ashamed, guilty and like I deserved the abuse I’d endured. Feeling angry at the people responsible for this was a step in my healing. I began putting the blame on those responsible and not myself. I was realizing that I did not deserve to be treated in the harmful ways that I was. This was huge to me as someone that had spent years thinking I deserved my trauma and as a result, future trauma and abuse as well.

There were instances where my anger was destructive, mostly to myself. I engaged in self-harm as a way to vent my anger and it also caused problems in my relationship at the time because I held my anger in and would get really frustrated and project my anger onto my relationship which was not fair to my partner.

Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with my anger more efficiently. What works for someone is largely dependent on them and their needs. For me, it was a literal punching bag to vent out frustrations and journaling. It was sitting down with my anger and treating it like a friend trying to protect me (because it was in a way). It was listening to it and finding the cause. My true anger came from those who hurt me, and in a way, took a part of me. My anger largely came from grief and betrayal. Understanding where it came from did not make it disappear, but it did offer me perspective and allow me to better manage it.

For some, anger is a cover up for other emotions. It becomes a defense mechanism against feeling the sadness, hurt and other emotions that a person does not want to feel. The anger is just the first layer and understanding where that anger comes from, and that the anger is a cover up is a great step in moving beyond it. Feeling the emotions beneath it will play a big part in moving beyond the anger.

Anger is a valid and understandable emotion when it comes to healing from trauma, even if your trauma does not have a specific person to blame (natural disasters and death of a loved one are examples). If the person who hurt you did not mean to or did not know better (like another child), anger is still a valid emotion. You’ve been hurt and you should not have been and it is reasonable to feel angry at this.

For a lot of us, anger plays a part in our healing. And that’s okay! You’re allowed to feel angry. Anger becomes an issue when you allow it to consume you and hurt you or others. The feeling itself is not inherently bad, and it can actually be a good thing. Your anger can be used to help you. It’s what you do with your anger that decides whether it’s helpful to you or not. When I was first told that my anger was “letting the other person win,” I believed that and felt invalidated. I have since realized that my anger has been an important part in understanding my pain and my needs. My anger is not letting someone else win, but letting me win, by helping me to heal.

#my blog posts #i am going to be gradually re-posting my posts #with text under a read more #to make them more accessible to people that don't like external links #anger

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360iris · 1 year

Text

For me, the vibe drastically shifts when I think of the moon knight system individually—

Like there’s Steven, who’s very sweet and accommodating. He’s easy going but just the right amount of snarky that never fails to make you snort with laughter.

He’s the kind of person I’d want to go to Starbucks with and order a large refresher only to walk around Target for a good two hours like it’s the mall or a farmer’s market.

Steven is Tuesday nights spent sprawled out on a modest sized couch, the two of you wrapped under a large blanket and trying to be respectful of each other’s space as you’re both self conscious of how much space you’re taking up.

But eventually, your calves are touching and ankles are interlocked as you’re leaning over him to get something off the end table.

It’s him standing at the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth and intently listening as you rambunctiously complain about obnoxious coworkers and customers over the noise of the shower running, shampoo being massaged into your scalp and rinsed from your hair.

He’s the partner you spent your adolescence daydreaming about.

And then there’s reserved, calculated and partially measured Marc. He’s quiet in an attentive sort of way, the type of big, semi-permanently grumpy guy who’ll take mental notes of literally everything that has to concern with you.

For example, he’ll pinpoint the exact pieces in your wardrobe you’re more inclined to pull out and wear before anything else in your closet— and he’ll always be sure to have washed, folded and returned them to their drawers so that they’re ready for you to pull on again at the end of the day.

It’s the kind of act of service that’s so subtle, you don’t realize he’s been doing it for months.

This man will fully memorize your go-to restaurant orders and act like it’s simply a coincidence when the waiter arrives and he’s just finished flawlessly reciting what you want, for you.

He knows what things you tend to somehow always forget to pack in your purse for work and will neatly line them up on the kitchen bar so that you couldn’t possibly miss them (you still forget to take them though… and after a while, he just starts packing your work bag for you. It doesn’t take long and he finds it’s nice that it gives him something to do.)

Marc is Sunday mornings spent baking cupcakes, lining the counters with different flavored box mixes, eggs and large ceramic bowls. Splashes of vanilla extract, tins smeared with butter and coated in flour for easy removal. The smell of sweet chocolate icing filling the air.

The two of you taking turns alternating from dish duty to prep. Pressing indulgent kisses in between his shoulder blades as he whisks eggs into oil and water like the yellowy yolks owe him money.

The way you serenely clean up behind him— a little spilt cake mix here, or broken eggshells there— doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated. The small gestures really go miles for him.

Marc wordlessly gives out tender pecks, against your temple or at the nape of your neck just because. He’s comfortable silences and fingers warmly intertwined.

He’s the man you find yourself stealing glances at when you think he’s not looking, wondering how you got so lucky.

And last, but never least, there’s Jake who’s hardy, spartan and disciplined. A true product of his environment and circumstances. Someone who learned from their oppressors and surpassed them in their capacity for brutality. The thing about Jake however, is that he has a great proclivity for gentleness as well.

Jake is Wednesday nights, the two of you undressing layer by layer, garments piling into a neat stack to later be placed into the laundry hamper. Jake resting his chin over your right shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middle as you fold your pants and his shirt.

He’s knelt alongside the white garden tub, his hand under the running water from the facet, adjusting the temperature as needed. Eucalyptus scented suds and bubbles fill the space around you as your back rests against his chest.

With his hands brought around your front, he peels one of the set of three clementines you’d brought from the kitchen. Hand feeding you segmented pieces to be lazily gnawed at, soft sloshes and splashes sounding at your feet as you wiggle your toes in the comfortable silence. The two of you exchanging hushed mumbles.

He’s cold nights with chill air slashing your cheeks, a steady chocolate stare he fixes you with as you shuffle in place in front of him. His neck craning as he leans forward, a gloved hand encasing your hands clasped at your mouth and moving them aside— his lips pressing against yours wordlessly.

He’s the protector you only ever heard about in passing stories.

#moon knight #moon knight blurb #moon knight headcanon #moon knight system #moon knight system x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #oscar issac

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the-modern-typewriter · 9 months

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Do you have any advice on writing a truly scary villain?? How do I make them genuinely terrifying but also still realistically human y’know?

The short answer is 'be specific', think about all the ways that humans can be scary, and show how the villain is scary/human by the story stakes/other character's reactions to them.

The longer, more rambling, answer is...

Whenever I think about villains, and a lot of the study that goes into villains/monsters, I think about the idea of either the Self or the Other.

Villain as Self:

The self is the us, in 'us vs them'. It is what we recognise within ourselves when we look at and explore villains.

This often comes with a realistically human motivation. For example, it could be that the villain is motivated by greed, recognition or desire for power or control (flaws that many of us have) or fear, desire to protect ourselves/our loved ones (good qualities that many of us have that become warped) and all these motivations ultimately lead the villain to do awful thing. We don't think we'd do the bad thing ourselves, but there is an uneasy terror in recognising that actually we might.

Alternatively, it is the villain who is well-respected and loved. The person we trust. The person we feel safe with. Except, we're not safe. And we can't tell, because we think they're just like us, and in many ways they are, and that's horrifying.

This kind of villain is always the dark side of our own society, our own assumptions and ideologies and belief systems. They are very popular at the moment.

We as a people are deeply uneasy with our own monstrosity.

Villain as Other

The 'other' is the 'them'. It's the fear that many of us still have with what is different to us, or what we don't understand or know.

This is the villain that is the random stranger, not secretly your best friend. It's, historically speaking looking at literary canon, the cannibal savages in different cultures. It's aliens. It's monsters where the scary thing is that they have no humanity, nothing we can reason with, a morality that is completely different to ours etc.

We as a people are still deeply uneasy about what we don't understand, even if many of us are trying to be better about it.

Some villains are a mixture of the two, but broadly speaking, you're considering the Villain as Self vibe of villain. I mention both because I find it interesting, and because our ideas of otherness are so often tied with our ideas of monstrosity that I can't not!

Scary nowadays often looks very much like someone persecuting what is considered 'other' or 'different'.

What is actually scary?

The first part of writing a genuinely scary villain is tapping into something that is genuinely scary.

While the vague can work, when it comes to villains that are realistically human, specificity is your friend. We understand these people, or at the very least we know and recognise them. And it's not a broad threat of 'end of the world' that tends to scare us most, it's much more personal.

We don't want to get hurt. We don't want to lose someone we love. We are scared when we realise we completely misjudged a person we trusted. We are scared when we see someone do something terrible and have a gut lurching feeling that, in their circumstances, we might do the same thing because we absolutely recognise the feeling and the motivation. We are scared when we see villains who persecute people just like us, because we know there's an uncomfortable sliver of truth to it.

Story stakes

All the above bit is all to do with your character understanding and construction. The internal bit. The premise of your character.

Story stakes is external and how you apply your character in your story. In short - if there is clearly no chance of your villain ever winning, and nothing bad ever happens and you just tell people that they are scary, the reader has no reason to believe you.

Have other characters react in terror to your villain. Have the villain's actions and goals have consequences in the story. They must be a genuine threat within the story world, even if they lose in the end. I hope this helps!

#villains #writing talk #writing tips #writing advice #creative writing #villain #monsters

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rejectedfables · 1 year

Text

Lan Xichen is clearly shaken by what WWX and LWJ tell him about NMJ’s death after the discussion conference. He has doubts, he is concerned, and in response to this he decides to USE THE EVIL SPIRIT AFFECTING MUSIC ON HIMSELF to SEE IF IT HARMS HIM.

(A normal and hinged thing to do)

(it harmed him)

If we use Nie Mingjue’s behavior as a metric for what this selection from the Collection of Spirit Turmoil does to a person, we can reasonably assume it causes or exacerbates at least SOME of the following:

Disrupts spiritual energy such that a person progresses towards qi deviation

Emotional instability

Violent outbursts

Prone to suspicion or paranoia

Nie Mingjue is already prone to literally all of these things, but they ARE also the things the seem notably exacerbated at the end of his life. Whether it was The Song itself or merely the proximity to qi deviation which caused/exacerbated these things, we cannot be sure, but as the latter is caused by the former, there is no functional difference.

In Guanyin Temple, very shortly after Lan Xichen would have used the song on himself, he is notably distressed, his faith in JGY is further shaken, and he’s manipulated by Huaisang into killing Jin Guangyao-- something that is both understandable in context AND clearly horrifies him for the rest of his life.

Given the circumstances (learning what he’s just learned about JGY’s involvement in NMJ’s death, and then learning everything else he does during this scene), he was going to be upset with Jin Guangyao regardless. He was going to have questions, he was going to have doubts. But I do think it’s WORTH REMEMBERING that this man had JUST used the same song ON HIMSELF that Jin Guangyao used to speed up/cause Nie Mingjue’s qi deviation and death. It provides additional context for his reactions, both within the scene and after it.

Lan Xichen has spent over a decade on the same page with Jin Guangyao about JGY’s motivations, goals, and often even the unfortunate but necessary methods he needed to use to achieve said goals. LXC is not NMJ; he absolutely understood that JGY going undercover during Sunshot involved killing some of their own people, and he understands that that was unfortunate but necessary. He understood JGY’s situation with his father, understood that JGY was not in a position to do anything about JGS’s decisions wrt Xue Yang, supported JGY through everything it took to make the watchtowers a reality. NMJ told LXC about JGY killing his superior officer, and LXC went “I’m sure he had a good reason” and just MOVED ON. He’s not under the impression that JGY has never hurt anyone, broken the rules, or committed a crime-- he just does not care, because he truly believes that JGY is a smart, capable, and well intentioned person and therefore those are things to be understood and compassionate about, rather than condemn and scorn him for. He may not have been aware of the extent of JGY’s crimes, but he didn’t feel like he NEEDED to be. He knew JGY, and that was enough.

Under normal circumstances, Lan Xichen’s wish when finding out something that upsets him (especially with regards to his friends), is clearly to talk about it. The greatest example is when Nie Mingjue loudly and repeatedly threatened Jin Guangyao’s life-- Lan Xichen wanted to talk it out. FOREVER, if need be. This is a man who understands that mitigating circumstances exist (especially when it comes to JGY) but solves problems with people he KNOWS with words.

So he finds out JGY killed NMJ, and his response is horror. And his solution to that horror is that he wants answers. He wants to talk about it. Why didn’t you tell me? If you felt you were backed into a corner, why didn’t you tell me that either?? Why didn’t you come to me??? TALK to me???? It could have all been delayed even longer solved if only--!!!

And yet, despite more than a decade of defending JGY in the face of an entire society blaming JGY for everything they could, in Guanyin Temple he’s swept up in the mood of the scene and condemns JGY with the rest. He knows JGY better than anyone else, but is made to doubt this. He’s left wondering if he ever knew the man at all, simply because he’s shown a new side of him.

And he responds to that feeling with violence.

He lives in a world and holds a position in said world that necessitates and normalizes violence, but he himself is not prone to it, especially with loved ones. Yet he doesn’t threaten to tie JGY up, magically mute him, have him tried for his crimes, nor does he SIMPLY react instinctively in perceived self defense-- it’s notable that he threatens death. While the circumstances are different, he does the same thing Nie Mingjue did (threaten JGY’s life), and I don’t think it’s irrelevant that he must be not entirely himself to get to that point.

In the Untamed, during the Guanyin Temple scene, he even slaps Jin Guangyao. And while I believe this is not canon to the book, I don’t personally think it’s out of character BECAUSE I think it’s a further nod to there being something wrong with him in this scene.

And his actions in that temple is, again, something he struggles to grapple with and regrets for, as far as we know, the REST OF HIS LIFE.

Right until the last moment, Guanyin Temple is a scene in which Lan Xichen is made to suspect that he’s never known Jin Guangyao at all, and Jin Guangyao is made to believe that he’s never mattered to Lan Xichen like Lan Xichen does to him. And in the very VERY end, when Lan Xichen chooses to die with him and Jin Guangyao doesn’t let him, they’re both shown that that doubt was unfounded. Jin Guangyao may be many things Lan Xichen was never willing or permitted to see, but he is also, fundamentally, everything Lan Xichen has known him to be.

And Lan Xichen never, ever, wanted to harm Jin Guangyao

#mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #mdzs #Mdzs meta #the untamed #cql #lan xichen #jin guangyao #somebody suggested I write about the Lan Brothers and I didn't have any meta about them BOTH brewing in my brain but I sure had this #so here you are #xiyao #lan huan #jgy #lxc

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hunny-bean · 11 months

Text

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

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'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #the punisher

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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Hello! I am SO hyperfixated on the fact that the overblot form CAN be controlled??? That’s the case with Malleus isn’t it? And I guess on one hand I can see how Idia can control it too because of his “curse/blessing” (and sheer will and spite).

Maybe this is foreshadowing that maybe it’s possible for the other OB boys to do so as well???? I don’t know how it’ll work with them but I’m so excited. Overblot cards potential AAAH

I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on this!

[Referencing this post!}

Yeah, I definitely think that OB Idia battle segment opens the floodgates for potential SSR Overblot Troublemaker(s) cards 💀 (RIP to the OB gang fans)

As a refresher for everyone (since it has been a while), alllllll the way back in book 1, Crowley and Cater describe “overblot” as thus: “[… being] overcome by negative energy and[…] losing control of [one’s] magic and emotions,” and “evil berserk mode”.

We’ve seen many examples of these traits in the main story campaign; oftentimes, the OB boy in question is impossible to reason with and has to be subdued via battle. However, it’s important to note that while the OBs may be primarily driven by their emotions, it is not purely rage but rather negative feelings in general. Yes, many OBs (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, etc.) do attack others—but other OBs demonstrate moments of calm (ie when their demands are met). For example, Jamil is tame when he believes he has banished Kalim, secured hypnotized Scarabia mobs, and reigns over the dorm as its new leader. I do believe anger is still a large component of the behavior of one who has overblotted though; that rage most certainly clouds a person’s judgment and compels them to strike out at the slightest thing.

Now, about the idea of “controlling” OBs… I don’t that that can actually be done?? We have to remember that Malleus is a VERY powerful mage—and this alone could give him an “edge” that others don’t when it comes to being fully aware while in OB (though I believe both Malleus and Vil indicate early on they notice their blot building). As Idia’s dad states, Malleus is drawing his magic from nature itself and therefore has a limitless supply it. Secondly, I wouldn’t call Malleus’s OB “controlling” it to begin with. It’s clear that he’s still running high on emotions and is unwilling to hear others out or have them interfere with his plans. These are still traits associated with OB; it’s not as though Malleus is “overriding” the unreasonable thoughts, he is still ruled by them and acts on them. I think what you (maybe?) mean is that Malleus has a much more calculating approach and more precise control over how he wields his power rather than indiscriminately smashing stuff in his path. This, again, could do with his insane power level compared to his peers. Unlike most other OBs, his goal (at least in his own framing) before he overblotted to begin with wasn’t to “take away”, but rather to “gift” happy endings to everyone. This sets him apart just based on interests alone, and that’s perhaps why he acts the most different in the lot.

Now let’s consider the circumstances under which Idia OBs a second time: it’s in a dream, meaning it’s questionable whether or not this would transfer over to real life. Because it’s Idia’s dream, he has more autonomy in it, particularly because he is now “awake”/conscious of the fact that it is a dream. Secondly, Idia bears the Shroud family’s curse/blessing, which allows him to “power up” the more blot is present, as it serves as fuel for his magic. This alone makes him a “special case” which could explain the unusual amount of control he exerts over his OB form. (Again though, I’d wager it’s mostly the dream environment.)

I do see maybe the other OB boys doing a similar “oh, lemme OB to help you guys fight” in a dream situation where there are fewer limits on what they can do, but not in a real world setting. It would put them all at risk anyway, as they lack Idia’s curse/blessing or Malleus’s fae powers. Is that worth the risk, knowing they could all die or potentially turn on their classmates?

I just don’t see OB becoming a “tool” or a magical girl transformation the characters could pull out for combat purposes in the story (though this is possible for like the gameplay outside of the story). I highly doubt OB is like something you could train yourself to control; it’s less like bulking up at the gym and more like pushing yourself to keep exercising while you’re high on adrenaline… Sooner or later, you’d burn out and injure yourself in that overexertion.

If there ever are OB cards, I can easily see them as being the type that don’t come with vignettes because… what reasonable story could you conjure up to explain the OBing again? If there are vignettes, then they most likely won’t fit into the main story canon. You’d have to frame the OB cards as “within the moment” of whatever book they OB’d in, and perhaps go more in-depth about the trauma or something along those lines.

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