#and they dont fear venturing into other neighborhoods

[pinolitas]

i love talking to older people bc theyve lived here long enough to FINALLY understand where it is that i live and dont live in a bubble of their yuppie neighborhoods

[kyoshi-lesbians]

Where the Air Nomads Went

as you maybe know, I don’t believe that Aang was the only air nomad to survive 

Dorje (my headcanon OC who is Ty Lee’s great grandmother) is not the only other air nomad who survived Sozin’s comet 

some, like Dorje, escaped alone and settled in other nations, assimilating to various degrees

Dorje is unique for having settled in the fire nation -- and there’s a loooong story behind that 

but some air nomads escaped the genocide in groups

these air nomad settled in secluded places around the world. it’s not as if nobody is aware that there are airbenders still out there, but the people who do know are those who are overlooked by the majorities too -- they don’t care to tell their secrets with outsiders

air nation communities were formed in:

The Foggy Swamp

the air nomads made their homes in the trees

think Jet’s treehouse house, but made by air nomads instead of traumatized children

the swap benders and the air nomads don’t cross paths often (swamp benders stick to the water ways and air nomads are up above) but they know each other. Huu is well known by the community, because he’s at the center of the Great Tree all the time and they often are too

the swamp is a deeply spiritual place and the air nomads are deeply spiritual. the Great Tree, especially, becomes engrained in their spiritual practice 

some people are attuned enough to the Great Tree that they can tell when a stranger enters the Swamp. it gives them enough warning to create a fog screen to remain hidden 

remember when the gaang flew over the swamp, they got sucked down into it by a freak tornado? and at the end of the episode, it was still a mystery where the tornado came from?

the air nomads knew someone needed to be in that swamp. it wasn’t the right time for them to meet aang, but they brought him there when he needed to be (to see the vision of Toph and find the perfect earthbending teacher)

The Si Wong Desert

air nomads survived in the desert at first by copying the sandbenders

they adapt the sand gliders to run on air power

they also dress similar, and look to outsiders to be just another desert tribe (unlike other tribes, they wear clothing in light shades of orange and yellow)

the desert is their home now, but they are not an earth kingdom tribe

sandbenders know this but they dont care, they help each other out in the harsh desert land like they would any other tribe

nomadic living is well suited for the desert -- they travel among their settlements depending on the migration of herding animals 

they used to have bison -- but they need so much space to fly freely, they are impossible to hide

the sandbenders remember the days of the bison, which is why they aren’t completely shocked to see appa

Crystal Cave Mountains

some air nomads settled in secluded, difficult to climb mountains in the earth kingdom

the mountains being so difficult to get to means that pretty much only air nomads and earthbenders venture that way 

the two groups work together often; in a few places the communities are very mixed air nation and earth nation 

many parts of the mountains contain networks of crystal caves, and earthbenders helped the air nomads turn these into homes and buildings, into their neighborhoods and temples

the entrances to these cave communities would be impossible for outsiders to spot, but inside there are whole communities

Remote Islands

ridding on on bison, some air nomads migrated to remote uninhabited islands on the outskirts of the water tribes and earth kingdoms

(not all air nomad groups had bison to escape on, and some, like the sandbenders were not able to keep hidden with them)

these islands are far enough from others that air nomads & their bison can fly freely without fear of being seen - they'll spot any ship before a ship spots them

it's not the same as the air temples, but they are able to be much more open with their bending than a lot of air nomad communities

but they are also the most isolated of the communities - most of whom live near other outsider communities and are in touch with those people - because it is dangerous to fly outside their islands and risk being spotted

in every place, the air nomads adapt and they pass their culture on. they remain air nation. the fire nation tried to wipe them out but they never did. they never could

[afterhoursfic]

[1/2] [noncon ~21 yr old jask] jasksier walking down the street, he's been disowned by his rich family, makes lives in a shady part of town with the money he makes at a barmaid (what the fuck is that word in modern english i legit dont remember ive read so much fic😂) Geralt works in the mafia under Vesemir, he's his second-hand man, and sees Jaskier walking alone at night, humming something under his breath. Loves his carefree innocence and wants to /ruin it/. omg i love the guns kink so much😂

2/2Pullshim into an alley, cigarette in his mouth, presses gun to small of Jaskier's back "stay still or ill shoot you." Rips his clothes off, fucks him however you'd like (i imagine hard, rough, and not too painless), and then shoves a gun inside him (which is probably equally painful, if not more), just for funsies, doesnt care that his cum's gonna fuck with his gun's upkeep. "Is that loaded?" "Keep talking and youll find out" afterwards, geralt lets him go and jask asks "was it loaded" "yes."

.

Warning: non con, gun kink

Hope you like it, and no worries barman/barmaid or barista I believe is the modern term anyway so you’re good XD

.

It was bordering 2 am and he was very quickly losing interest in whatever deal he was supposed to be making with the fucker now 20 minutes late,. He had only stayed out so long so he could watch as the main street filtered out with people in various drunken stages, from the poor sods acting as chaperones to the ones who couldn't keep their liquor down and threw it all up on the pavement, it was interesting in its own weird way watching as other people went about their lives none the wiser as to the sort of dealings that went on in the dark.

With that thought, he deemed the meeting important enough to wait until he finished his cigarette, after that he would go home, get pleasantly buzzed on whiskey and maybe even hire some company for the evening and let Vesemir deal with the fallout tomorrow. Not that he expected a bollocking, he was punctual as always and if their clients weren't of a similar mind then it wasn't worth the business.

Eyes still watching the dwindling nightlife he caught sight of a boy leaving one of the clubs, a boy being what he was for he could barely be legal, and his eyes caught on the embroidered shirt he wore and the dark denim jeans that looked as if they'd been tailored to accentuate his ass. It was clear the boy came from money and he briefly wondered whether there may be a job in trying to blackmail the boy's parents, he half expected a car to come and pick him up given the late hour but instead, the boy wrapped his arms around himself before he ventured away from the road and down an alley he knew to be a shortcut into dingier part of town, the part where most people didn't bother to hide most of their dealings, and curiosity piqued, he followed.

He kept his distance for a while, his ears barely catching the tune the boy was whistling as he kicked a rock when he walked, the cliche sign of someone down on their luck if he'd ever seen it. It was apparent the boy had been through some sort of hardship, his clothes were tailored, his hair artfully styled and even 10 paces back he could smell the expensive cologne he was wearing, and yet the boy was out long after dark when mummy and daddy would worry after their protege and he was heading towards trouble in this neighborhood. He had been through hardship, yes, but there was an innocence to him from the way he kicked at the rock like a child to how he hummed a familiar tune and he found that he wanted.

Wanted to ruin the kids' boyish innocence and leave him broken and ravaged on the roadside and so, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, he pulled the gun from his waistband and picked up his pace until he was able to reach forward with his free hand and grab his hair to pull him deeper into the alley whilst he lifted the gun to press against his temple as he leaned forward to whisper in the boy's ear "Don't scream, I'd hate to ruin that pretty face of yours"

Shoving the boy into the nearest wall he kicked his legs apart to make space for himself before pushing up behind him so there was nowhere for him to go, he pressed against the boys back and forced him harshly into the wall before he slowly ground his growing erection to press against the boys' ass, taking far too much enjoyment from the small whimper he heard from the boy before he tried to turn his head to face him.

"Just take my money, I don't-"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go out after dark little bird"

"Please, just let-"

"I don't think you're in any place to be making demands" Gun still fixed to the boys' temple he began pawing at the front of his shirt to try and loosen the buttons but after it took far too long to undo just the first one he grabbed at the almost silk like material and using his teeth to help get a grip on the material, managed to rip it off the boy's chest before he leaned forward to kiss and nip his teeth at his throat, feeling his dick twitch as he heard the boy panting in small uneven breaths as he bit his bottom lip as if trying to keep back the noises he wanted to make.

Shirt gone, he let his free hand trail across his chest to tug harshly at a nipple, pulling and pinching it between his fingers until the boy let out a pained cry which only caused him to shove the barrel of his gun under the boy's chin with the whispered command to be quiet, earning another whimper, before he moved to the other nipple to give it the same treatment.

Once the boy's nipples were red and hard under his hand he pulled away just far enough to tug at the waistband of his jeans to pull them along with his underwear down to his ankles, effectively trapping his legs before once again moving to stand between them, forcing the boy to press against the cold, brick wall as his still clothed dick now strained at the denim to press in the crease of the boys bare ass.

When he brought two fingers up to the boy's mouth, at first he resisted, the boy's mouth remaining firmly closed even as he tried to force it open, a feat much harder one handed so instead he moved those fingers to rub against the boy's hole, dry, pressing one of them in just barely but enough that he felt the boy clench tightly against the intrusion, soft pleas to stop falling from his lips.

"I'm fucking you one way or the other, depends how easy you want to make it on yourself" With that, he pulled his fingers away from the boy's hole and back in front of his mouth "Last chance"

He couldn't help but growl into the boy's neck as he felt a wet tongue begin to lick at the tips of his fingers, only he didn't have time to wait for the boy to kitten lick his fingers, hell he didn't want to wait so instead just shoved them straight down the boy's throat, letting out a small moan as he felt the boy gag around them and try to get any control back. He didn't let him, he just fucked his fingers into his mouth three, four, five times before pulling them out before he crouched down behind the boy, and using the gun, moved one of his ass cheeks to the side so that he could get a view of his hole before spitting on it, chuckling as he heard the boy moan and watched his hole clench and unclench at the warm spit before he stood back up and unceremoniously pushed the first finger in, he wasn't a brute after all.

As he began fucking the boy with one finger, quickly making it two, he trailed the barrel of his gun along the boy's stomach, side, across his neck, chuckling as he felt his muscles clench and small shivers pass through him whilst he began to suck a series of dark hickies onto the boy's neck.

Just as soon as he'd started, he was pulling his fingers out and in a quick movement had his dick out and slicked with spit before the tip was pressed against the boy's hole, taking far too much enjoyment at the way he felt it clench against him, already awaiting that tight heat as he began to push in, whatever protest the boy may have tried to make died on his lips and instead became a pained cry which was quickly muffled by shoving his face into the wall, as he pushed even deeper, all but grinding his teeth to try and keep control, to drag it out as long as possible as the boy whimpered around his cock.

When he was fully seated in the boy he pulled back a little just to watch as he pulled about halfway out before quickly thrusting back in, letting out a growl at the pained whimper from the boy as he began to pick up his pace and really fuck into the boy.

He had been reduced to somewhat animalistic grunts as he fucked into the boy with fervor, made better by every cry and whimper and pained groan that seemed to come out of the boy every other thrust that made him just want to fuck harder, to get deeper until the boy was nothing more than a simpering mess around his cock.

It was on one thrust that had caused the boy to shout that had him stop, pressing him close to the wall so he could breathe in his ear, gun teasing under his chin "Thought I told you to keep quiet"

"I'm sorry, I pro-" With the boy's mouth open he quickly shoved the tip of his gun past his lips, all but feeling the boys distress as his whole body clenched in fear, his hole now had a death grip on his cock as he carried on fucking into him causing him to groan as he tried to fuck even harder into him as he neared his release "Best be good little bird, wouldn't want to see you get hurt"

He could practically hear the scowl from the boy at that, he knew the irony of course, the promise not to hurt him with a gun in his mouth whilst he fucked his ass with no lube and little prep, he just didn't care and ignored whatever attempts the boy tried to make to get his mouth off the gun and instead forced it just a little bit deeper as his thrusts started to become uneven and desperate as he neared the edge of his release.

It was when he moved his thumb to take the safety off of the gun still in the boy's mouth, causing the boy to panic and try to squirm and thrash to get out of his hold that caused him to clench even tighter on his cock that he finally came with a long groan, letting the boy's movement milk as much come from his cock as he slowly rode out the aftershocks until they were standing there, the boy tense in his arms as he leisurely began to fuck the tip of his gun in his mouth just for something to do.

He ventured his free hand down to the boy's half hard dick and with a smirk on his face and a warning to keep quiet, he both pulled out of the boy's hole and took the gun out of his mouth.

"That thing isn't loaded is it?" He doesn't give an answer as with his free hand he pushed between the boy's shoulder blades to keep him fixed to the wall whilst he began to toy the edge of his gun at the boy's rim, feeling him tense up even more if that were possible "Is it loaded? Please don't, I don't want-"

"Keep talking and you'll find out" He then pushed the barrel past the boy's rim, just a bit thicker than his own dick, and into his hole, already slick with spit from the boy's mouth, but given the pained hiss and the small grunts with every little twist of the wrist, it was a lot to take. He angled the gun just a little as he began to thrust it a little deeper into the boy and it was when his breath hitched he knew he'd found the boys prostate and did his best to abuse it.

A part of him lamented the loss of his gun, already his come was starting to leak out the boy's hole even with the gun in him and he didn't want to think what inside the barrel would look like, but in his business guns were as easy to come by as candy so he didn't mourn too long as he watched the boy slowly get harder as he was fucked by his gun, unable to stop himself from burying his face into the boy's neck to hear every breathless pant and barely held moan.

"You like being fucked by my gun? Such a dirty bitch, you'll get off to anything that's fucking you" With that, he wrapped a hand around the boy's dick and stroked in time with the thrusts of his gun "Beg for me to let you come, tell me how good it is to get fucked by my gun little bird" When there was no answer he tightened his grip around the boys cock until he cried out in pain "I said beg" his voice was deeper, darker, one that brooked no argument and he smiled just a little into the boy's neck when he felt him relax just a little in defeat.

"Please, please let me come" The words were strained but his orders were followed at least so slowly he began to stroke the boys cock again "Your gun feels so good in me, I'm such a slut and your gun fills me so well" again the words are monotonous and only being said because the boy had to but it still does the job and he's sure that even then if he hadn't come already, those words would have done it.

Instead, he doubled down his efforts, stroking the boys cock furiously whilst rubbing the barrel of the gun on his prostate until the boy is shaking against him as he comes. It's only when he's stopped shaking that he pulls the gun out, wiping the edge of it against the boy's side as he leaned to whisper in his ear "To answer your question little bird"

He quickly pointed the gun deep into the alley and fired, laughing when he felt the boy jolt in his arms at the loud bang that left behind a deafening silence. Without wasting much more time he tucked his dick back into his pants and his gun back into his waistband before turning to the boy, still frozen where he was left against the wall, not even daring to breathe,

"You should be more careful out there little bird, next person may not be as nice as me" With that he gave a light smack to the boy's ass, and seemed to finally get him into motion and scramble to put what on what was left of his clothes, not bothering to spare him a glance as he pulled out and lit a cigarette before he turned back into the alley to head back towards the club.

[staticdecay-blog]

Post 5 - Abandonment Issues

I have been asked before of why I am infatuated with, and enjoy being in abandoned buildings. I can speak at length of the parallels between those spaces and my own self and my emotional space, about the comfort I find in the affinity with them. They stand in their neighborhoods, overlooked or hated by most, neglected, becoming ruins and testaments to the nature of decay......but for the few that take the risk to their health, their freedom, and rise to the fears of being labelled a weirdo or outcast...they find a beauty there, they find story after story after story told on and in the walls, in the furniture left behind, in the documents, pictures, and relics that are scattered among the floors.

To find the history of a building, and how it became abandoned is usually a not overly complicated affair. Sometimes it can be found simply by looking at it, such as when a fire claims it and leaves a large chunk collapsing and charred. Other times it is not so obvious but usually boils down to economic failures in general. The actual details can be so completely varied...some are failed business ventures, some suffer from gentrification, some have slumlords, some have histories of drugs......they are like us in so many ways...a thousand faces a thousand stories...there will be similar circumstances among many of us but rarely the exact same.

I have been asked not nearly as much, how I came to have abandonment issues. For years I thought on this...I would trace scar after scar that is etched in my flesh and ruminate on it. The first answer was "because I am BPD." This is, however, a very common and dangerous answer/dynamic because it shuts down really finding out WHY?

Then I began to think back over my life. I thought of the numerous people in my teens and adult years who said they would "be there" and then cut out as soon as things got remotely tough, or even remotely not tough. Girlfriends...friends....mentors......it was a pattern that I saw and experienced in my life but even those instances...those were not the causes, those were symptoms.

Just as the obvious answers of why those buildings are empty and falling apart can be found but lack the details...so too can it be pretty easy to see the pattern of my own abandonment issues. However, the details may require some digging beyond the daily newspaper archives or beyond the archives etched in my skin.......

The year is something I cannot recall beyond a rough guess, but based on certain things such as the vehicle we drove and the fact we often went to the playground, I would guess it was between 1990 and 1992. I know for certain it was before the years of hell I would face in Fredonia middle and high school. It happened in early summer and I would have been between 9 and 11 years old.

The playground at Fredonia Central School was a sprawling fortress back in those days. It would later be torn down as a safety hazard but in its time it was called the creative playground. It was entirely made of wood with everything interconnecting. A lot of hidden passages, bridges, towers that would give way to tire tunnels, various monkey bars, slides, poles, and no shortage of things to climb, jump on or off from, run across, and potentially break your neck on.

Remember all those old NES games? It was extremely easy to take yourself to those scenarios on this playground. It was NOT a playground it was a haunted castle, or a fortress held by the evil ninjas or soldiers. There is a reason it was called the creative  playground...because it was ripe to create various fantasies to act out in our solitude when we were not star athletes or cool kids.

It was also an extremely good spot to play hide and seek or capture the flag if you had friends or random playmates that happened to be at the playground at the same time.

My father had gotten home from work and after dinner he somehow found the energy after 8 or more hours of grinding steel in a sweltering mill to take me to the playground. The sun was just beginning to set as we were pulling up to the playground. This meant we would get about 45 minutes or so.

The frogs could be heard from the small forest patch that contained a little pond, and the sounds of the night started to fall as I opened up to the playground. It did not take long to ask my dad to play hide and seek with me. There were no other people at the playground that evening, and my father was a good father, despite the fatigue he surely felt he would stand up and he would do something I find myself incapable of as an adult...he could get very in to this childs life and escape the real world with him.

I hid first.

I thought I was clever and I found myself a spot in some hidden crevice. As I would also do as an adult, I would overlook some very obvious setbacks in the plan and soon after I would be crushed to find I was not nearly as clever as I thought.

I do not know how my father found me but he was good at finding things. He grew up in the country and was decent at tracking and noticing things. He probably saw my footprints or made himself invisible and would stealthily wait for me to move a bit and he would see it and then slowly move in to tag me.

Sometimes I would get frustrated with it and the fact that he never let me win. As good a man as my father was, and as good a father as he was, he still had some short comings, as we all do or will. One thing he did not always see was when enough was enough. There was a time we were playing HORSE in our backyard, and every time I would shoot the ball, he would say in an announcers voice "Barkey shoots...and he puts up a brick" and I would get sooooo mad. In that incident I ended up in tears and crying to my mother....

The sun was falling further towards the horizon and the temperature was cooling with it, and I had to find my dad as I was "it" now. I had reached the mandatory count which was probably 50, but I can't recall for certain.

I started up high near the big wizard tower structure. I felt I could see the most ground from there. After climbing up the tower and coming out I crossed the bridge and kept my eyes out both below me, and to the left where the rest of the playground was after crossing a balance beam. There was no sign of my father.

After the bridge I started looking in the hidden areas below the bridge before going to the area that connected to the hard, one board balance beam that I could not get across without stepping off a couple of times. This area had more hidden areas within it and I started clearing them. Numerous people had been there, as was evidenced by the simple and young graffiti displaying things like "Jenny <3's Tim" or a statement of dislike against one teacher or another.

None of the people that had been there though were not there now, nor was my father.

Temperature drop. Losing light. I clear the playground with no sight of my father. Panic rising.

My mind went to the place it went every time my parents would leave: "what if they dont come back?" If they ran late I would become very panicked inside of myself and think they were dead or that something happened to them. They always came back though.

My mind was racing because I could not find my father. It was racing faster than the speed of horizon swallowing the sun, faster and louder than the frogs who were screaming at me.

I combed through the wooden corridors, towers, bridges and nooks looking for him again.

I came to sit at the foot of the widest slide in the playground. I watched the sun disappear over Lake Erie in the distance, creating intense shadow figures of nearby trees and houses. I was crying hysterically at this point with full rivers being developed from what were first gently moving streams down my cheeks.

I was left alone. It happened.

Through misted, glassy, blurred eyes I made my way back to the van. I opened the passenger door and climbed in to the seat. I was hoping that my dad was in the van but that was dispelled as soon as that door opened.

My head slumped down, staring at my feet...this is a position I would come to know well a few years later for numerous reasons. I would occasionally find the hope and will to look out the window to see if my dad had magically reappeared. He didn't.

The sun was all but gone but my tears certainly were not. My breathe was dwindling from the sobs and crying. No hope was felt so I aimlessly looked back at the window.

A shadowy figure moved and I realized it was not a backlit tree. This figure moved closer and closer until it could be recognized as my father..........

Parents have the best of intentions a lot of times. Mine certainly did. My father never considered the consequences of not "letting me win." He, nor I could have ever predicted that twenty years later I would sit within the walls of, or on the roof of some decrepit abandoned building self portrait, watching that same sun disappear, taking the light with it....and contemplating HOW I came to relate more with that spot than any person I have ever met.