#aka it's like sleeping with a gun under my pillow except i just keep a massive fucking knife next to me instead. works for me

[orcelito]

ok SO i went and got out Most of my knives (i remembered I have a nonbinary knife only after i took the photos & also idk where it is currently. just imagine all these plus a nonbinary flag knife ok? ok)

HERE ^ is the most of them, minus that nonbinary knife. look at that fuckin mess. 32 shown here (i think) plus my nonbinary knife makes 33 blades (minus cooking knives, i dont count those for these purposes)(also counting the swiss army knife as only 1 bc lol)

& some explanations for them! gonna put these under a readmore bc it got Kinda long on accident whoops. Read Ahead if u wanna see me nerd out about my knife collection.

STARTING WITH my big ones.

my spear (gifted to me), my cane sword (from anime convention), my shitty $20 sword (also from anime convention. low quality but cool as hell), my teal mini sword + matching throwing knives (from online), my decorative axe (from a local store), my twin blades (my sharpest blades, theyre actually kinda scary how sharp they are, but i love them bc of it. from online), red saber (from online),

ANDDDDDDDDDDDD my favorite hefty bitch of a machete that i sleep with in my bed frame on the very right (inherited from my grandpa bc i was the first one who spotted it at Family Claiming Day)(this thing really is as long as my leg & much heavier than Any of the rest of the blades pictured here. i love it)

another view of the blades so u can better see how long they are. the big boys. they're lovely. 2nd heaviest blade is the cane sword when it's in its cane, mostly bc that handle has some Heft. tbh id feel safer using it as a bludgeoning weapon than a stabbing weapon, but having a cane sword is just plain cool

AND my smaller blades!

i have a lot of pocket knives. starting from the top left: golden pocket knife (from online), rainbow dragon (from online), rainbow HEFTY boy (heaviest pocket knife, from online), spider knife (from online), stiletto jade (from online), pathetic army boy (from local store, this knife has NO redeeming qualities, but it's mine <3), black stiletto (from local store), plain dagger man (from online), my damascus steel knife (was a gift, probably my singular most expensive knife. fancy boy), Dull Dagger Man (first blade i ever bought, from anime convention)

& for bottom row: teeny black knife (first pocket knife i owned, gift from my dad), lil rainbow knife (from local store), plain steel knife (from sketchy shop in gatlinburg + one of my Favorite knives), green dragon knife (from online, a real beaut), triple throwing knives (also from same sketchy shop in gatlinburg), the baby throwing knives again from the Big Boys pic but i included them again bc they r so teeny tiny, my keychain key blade (from online), swiss army knife (from online), & the pair of claw keychain baldes (from online)

many blades, many stories, so little time. theyre great tho.

SOME FOCUSES:

^ these are all my spring-assisted knives, sorted from worst feel to best feel to open. based on quickness, ease, & general satisfaction. leftmost is leftmost bc i didnt even Know it was spring assisted, bc it doesnt have a nice lil tab on the back to press. no u gotta press on one of the rungs. but once u do it Does spring open, so i included it. next 3 are just Average in feel (these 3 are sibling blades anyways, nice of them to be together). jade stiletto is smooth and quick, nice to open. Hefty Boy rainbow has some THUNK to it when i open it. like that babey's got PURPOSE to it. added to the general size of it & it's just pretty great. AND THEN MY TWO FAVS, green dragon is a perfect beautiful knife & feels very great to open. and then Steel Sketchy Knife aka my 2nd pocket knife & first i bought for myself. it looks plain in comparison to the others, but she's anything But. quick, light, Sharp. it has the Best feel to open, bc it's just a fast SHHK. probably my knife that's seen the most use (aside from my small black knife) just bc of how great it feels to open. i love that knife so much for Real.

& the final highlight, somewhat related, are the knives I actually use the most in my daily life!

on the left are the knives I keep in my bag by default, & thus the ones I carry with me Everywhere i go. small black pocket knife bc she's Ol' Faithful, & a pretty lowkey knife for basic tasks when I dont wanna raise any eyebrows lol. silver knife bc as previously stated i Love using it so much. i take it out when i gotta breakdown a lot of boxes at work, & it Never disappoints. small rainbow keychain key knife bc it's cute & i like to keep it on my keychain. & swiss army knife bc Obviously im gonna keep the swiss army knife in my bag for if i need an emergency tool.

on the right are the three knives I keep out in my apartment. black stiletto lives on my bathroom counter, for bathroom knife needs. green stiletto i keep on my table next to where I hang out in my bedroom, for any couch time needs. & then green dragon beaut camps out on top of some shelves by my front door bc it's Great for opening boxes, aka something I will do for packages I receive after pulling them in the front door. it works for me.

all the rest of my knives live either in a box (for small ones) or my closet (for big ones). i may have a lot of knives, but somehow I never feel like i have enough. i just love collecting them so much <3

[stachmousworld]

Donuts

 (Picture from the Von Doughnuts site. I never had those. *cry in french*)

Summary: Bucky came back from a mission with a treat or a dozen. His bestfriend is not sure what is going on and her fear may stop her from finding what she really wanted. Fortunately, Bucky aka Bronco, was willing to risk it all.

Pairing: Bucky x Black!female character

Disclaimers: None of them are mine, except for the original character.

Tags: Smut/Tease. Second base who? Donuts do play a huge part in it.

It was International Donut Day. Why do I know that? Do I really keep track of those International Days? No. But I’m on a binge, watching this psycho, Will Tennyson (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyqUgHwb5mk&t=16s) This dude, from Toronto, is absolutely a monster when it comes to inhaling food, especially donuts. So here we are.

Also, I wanted to write a full smutty scene, but I listened to the wrong track. Listening to SiR instead of Tank for these kinds of stories was my mistake.

 She was dosing on her couch, her show long forgotten. She freed one of her legs from the warmth of the plaids and wiggled her toes, enjoying the crisp cold air. Finally off her feet. Finally, she sighed, rotating her tensed ankles. This week had been hell. She had been stretched thin at work. One of her colleagues had ditched them on the busiest week of the year, to go to Coachella, and she had to replace her and take both shifts, with little to no pauses. Would she get paid way more? Yep, but it did nothing to help with her anger. She was too exhausted to formulate a plan of revenge against her colleague, but once she’d feel better. It was over for her.

She stretched her calves and groaned. It’s decided, she’d never stand up again. Wasn’t worth it. Nope. As she snuggled her pillow, someone knocked on her door. She frowned and patted the empty place next to her looking for her phone. She groaned when the knocking and ringing grew louder.

“Siri, what time is it?” She whispered furiously, praying that Siri wouldn’t reply too loud.

“1 am, Miss.” The electronical voice answered. Loudly. The young woman tossed the covers, definitely annoyed. She grabbed her boyfriend’s gun and slowly stood up. She kept the TV on to maintain the illusion that she didn’t hear the person, even if Siri’s voice had sounded pretty loud to her own ears. She hoped the person behind the door hadn’t noticed.

She tiptoed to the door, looked through the peephole and sighed, relief washing over her.

“Bucky,” she groaned as she unlocked the door. “It’s 1 am. I told you to call me before coming. I could have been sleeping. And you know how I feel about waking up.”

Bucky looked sheepish and held a box toward her. She grabbed it and returned to her safe place, on her couch under the blankets.

“You are not excused, by the way. Even though it smells…” She brought the box to her nose and inhaled. “…heavenly.”

She settled on the couch legs crossed.

“Sorry, Doll, I just came from a mission and thought of you.”

She rolled her eyes and eyed him suspiciously. A mission? Did he come straight from the Tower? She narrowed her eyes as he took his jacket off. Was that blood on the hem of his shirt? She leaned forward and scrunched her nose. Bucky unaware of her inner struggles sauntered to the couch. She raised a hand to stop him.

“Wait a minute, Bronco. Did you take a shower before coming? Last time was enough, already. I don’t want to face the cleaning lady and try to explain why I have blood on my cushions. NO amount of sweets would make me rekindle or friendship.”

Bucky grinned mischievously.

“If you want, you can check my body.” He drawled, before winking.

“Thanks. But I’ll pass. If you want a hot body to sleep with, the door is behind.”

Bucky grunted something about her being unfairly cold toward him, although he brought her favorite treats.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Now, strip or get lost, Bronco,” she said, impassive.

“You do realize why people call me Bronco, right?” He asked, as he unbuckled his pants. A few wild strands of hair falling onto his face. Her fingers itched to redo his bun and touched what she knew was soft cleaned hair. She gripped her plaid and concentrated on the softness instead.

Breath in, breath out. It’s not the first time he’ll be half naked next to you and that won’t be the last. So calm down, she thought desperately. After a last exhale, she took the remote and scrolled down the list of movies, looking for one he’ll appreciate.

“You didn’t answer.”

“Hm?” She answered, pretending not to hear. Being distracted meant looking at him and looking at him meant…her heart started beating faster. Nope. Not getting my eyes off the screen, she concluded, firmly.

“You love to call me Bronco, but do you know why they call me like that?”

God, had she already inhaled? Or exhaled? Was her breath too fast, or too slow? Had he noticed? She slightly shook her head.

“I’m not stupid, Buck’”, she said, cringing inwardly. Her voice sounded too weak. He sure would notice that something was wrong. Great.

“Yeah, but I want you to tell me, or else, I’ll think you don’t really know.”

“What am I? A kid?” she asked, slightly amused.

“Who knows,” he whispered in her ear. Warm air caressed her lobe and neck. She sat still. Paralyzed. She hadn’t even seen him move. How did he…?

She kept staring at the TV but couldn’t decipher anything anymore. The only anchor was Bucky’s breath on her right side, tickling her slightly. She resisted with all her consciousness and strength against the pleasure rushing through her veins.

She swallowed, took a short breath and turned her head toward his. Bucky pressed his forehead against hers. He slowly brushed his nose against hers, their lips only a few inches apart. Her eyes were glued to his. They were normally a light grey, turning blue when it was sunny outside, but tonight…tonight they were dark blue. Enticing and luring her into a new territory.

For a couple of minutes, no one moved.

“They called you Bronco, because you are wild,” she finally said. Bucky blinked slowly. She swallowed, then licked her lips to humidify her dry lips. The tip of her tongue accidentally brushed Bucky’s lips. She stuttered some apologies, cheeks flaming red. Bucky, still silent, leaned back. His gaze was unwavering.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he answered, his voice deeper and raspier than normal.

She unclenched her hands on the remote and sent it to him. He caught it effortlessly but didn’t make any move to look for a movie.

“Are you not going to look what I brought for you?” He said, raising one eyebrow and pointing at the large box. She jumped into action, taking this distraction to make sense of her own thoughts. What the absolute…what the hell! She almost…they almost kissed. And Bucky didn’t seem to mind. She briefly closed her eyes. He simply is horny and was probably too tired to find someone so he’s being a jerk, she reasoned.

She shook her head, accidentally freeing a few braids out of her satin bonnet. She raised her hand to put them back, when Bucky’s hand came into view. He rearranged her braids with nimble fingers. She closed her gaping mouth and thanked him almost silently.

His dark eyes seemed to be attached to her. He hadn’t stopped looking at her, and she was starting to feel a little bit bothered. Were they crossing a line? Did she even want to cross that line? Her heart settled her resolution. She wont sleep with him. It was already messy as it was, but with her now growing feelings for him, she wouldn’t be able to pretend not caring about him. She inwardly cringed. 

I’d become too clingy. Too obvious and he’ll let me down nicely, because it is how he is, she thought, sadly.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bucky nudged her shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry. Lost in my thoughts for a second.”

“I know,” he simply replied. His voice was too calm to be a good sign.

I have already fucked this up, she groaned. With trembling hands she opened the box. The scent escaping was mouthwatering. She leaned forward and inhaled. There were 12 huge donuts. Some filled, some not, some with a hole and the others not.

“Jesus, Buck! That’s my crack, you know that,” she screamed, excited. She looked for the right one to start. It took her way more time that she’d like to admit, but they looked so good. Contrary to popular beliefs it wasn’t an easy task. She didn’t want to start with the best one and be disappointed eating the others. Like so many times before.

She, finally, settled for a classic. A glazed donut. The most regular and common one. The first bite left her boneless, slow moans escaped her mouth. It was really too indecent to be that good. She slumped onto the back of the couch, eyes rolling from the sugar rush, the savory dough and the overall balanced spices.

At this point, she was unaware of Bucky’s presence. All that counted was the donut and her. Once finished she licked her fingers and smacked her lips.

“Really, Bucky, you outdone yourself. After the last time, I was sure you couldn’t find something better than those pancakes from the South, but here we…” She trailed off. Bucky took her hand, brought her fingers to his mouth and sucked on her thumb. His tongue swirl around the digit, cleaning the remaining glaze. His eyelids fluttered as he changed from one finger to the other. Every time his tongue lapped the tip of her finger, she felt sparks of pleasure bursting inside her clit. She closed her legs and enjoyed the pleasure brought by the sudden pressure.

He liked her pinky finger, letting it go in a pop. Bucky looked more pleased than her. He wiped the corner of her lips.

“Truly the best,” he whispered, pensive.

“Bucky…”

“Try this one.” He brought to her lips a plain looking donut. She took a bite, almost regretting not taking a napkin. The strawberry jam filling burst inside her mouth, almost choking her as it got near her windpipe. She chewed, conscious that Bucky was watching her every move. She was now repressing her moans and twitching and forced her legs to stay still.

“It’s really good,” she complimented with her mouth still full.

Bucky tutted. “Have your parents never taught you not to talk with your mouth full?”

She swallowed then opened her now empty mouth. Bucky smiled amused.

“See, Daddy, I’m a big girl now,” she chuckled, leaning to get the rest of the donut from Bucky. She raised her eyes when she received no reaction from him. Bucky’s predatory face was back. Oh oh. He tilted his head and smirked.

“Buc…Bucky? Are you okay?”

Bucky’s smile revealed too many teeth to be innocent. He nodded and brought the rest of the donut to her mouth. She took a cautious bite, not knowing what Bucky had in mind. Now she was prepared, she could really enjoy the donut. There was some lemony aftertaste from the jam. She bobbed her head as other spices came through. Really good for a jam filled donut.

She leaned forward to get another bite. The last one. Bucky gave it to her, still silent. She wasn’t sure of what to say, or what to do to calm him down. So, she took her time to think but ended up being more distracted by him, or more exactly by his hand, which was now on hers. His fingers traveled slowly, up to her neck. He caressed her bare arms, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

As he reached the base of her neck, he started drawing some circles, making her tilt her head toward the warmth. Her eyes fluttered and shut closed. She enjoyed the lovely caress, totally unaware of Bucky’s initial plan, until she felt soft lips caressing the other side of her neck.

“Bucky,” she pleaded. There was as much desperation for him to keep going than a plea to stop.

He kissed her neck some more, then made his way to her face with the same care and precision. He inhaled softly onto her lips, then kiss her lightly. She barely felt his soft plump lips.

“Bucky…”

He grazed her lower lip with his teeth, nibbling, then pressed in, using the space between their body to lay her down on the couch onto the feather-like plaid. He pushed his tongue inbetween her lips and played with hers.

Bucky took his time to discover her mouth. His tongue felt so good against hers. She started writhing against his body, trying to maximize the pressure between their two bodies. Bucky thrusted into her hip. A large thickness bumped onto her pelvis. She moaned. She did that. She made him…Wait!

She pushed Bucky away. Although he was way bigger and bulkier than her, he allowed her. He flopped onto his back, eyes closed as he took sharp breaths. He didn’t try to hide his bulge and laid legs crossed next to her.

She averted her eyes.

“Why?” he said, dejected.

She opened her mouth and closed it. Bucky shouldn’t have sounded so…sad. He should have laughed it off and joked like usual.

“I don’t…we are friends Bucky. And even though some people like to be friends with benefits, I don’t do that.” She laughed mirthlessly. Yeah, she didn’t want to talk about her virginity on top of her morals. Even though she was sure, she had talked to him about it.

“And if I don’t want to be your friends. Only,” he said, carefully.

She frowned unsure of what he meant.

“And if I want to be more than your friend,” he explained, a bit awkward.

“Just because you want to fuck me?”

Bucky’s face scrunched in cringe.

“I wouldn’t call that…okay, that’s not the point. I don’t care about…making love to you.” Bucky’s face grew redder than normal for a supersoldier. He raised his eyes to the sky and took a deep breath. “I want the whole shebang. Going on dates, doing some couple activities.” He finished quickly, avoiding her eyes.

“But why?” she asked, gobsmacked.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you want to be in a relationship with me?”

Bucky shrugged, his entire face was now flaming red.

“I have always wanted to.”

“You’re lying,” she gasped, slapping his leg. “I’m pretty sure, you weren’t crushing on me. You kept talking about all these girls you were seeing.”

Bucky groaned and took his head into his hands. She only deciphered something close to “fuck…Clint and Nat.” Understanding what was the problem, she scooted forward, unconsciously sitting on his lap. She took his hand away from his face, and peered into his eyes.

“Bucky, tell me the truth. Please.”

He took a deep breath, opened his mouth a few times. He freed his hands, pushed her onto his chest, her head resting on his heart.

“Since the first time I saw you.” He replied, quietly.

“What?” She asked, lost.

“I wanted to be with you since the first day. You were so beautiful with your little yellow flowery dress. And the smile you gave me…” He kissed the top of her head. “…I tried to ask for advice to the only people I knew because I tried and failed to flirt with you and keep you interested. So, they told me to make you jealous, but the more I pretended to go on dates and have sex, the more you put me in the ‘friendzone.’”

She didn’t have it in her to laugh at his use of modern slang, too engrossed in the meaning behind those words. She let them sooth her insecurities. The bubble of love and hope threatened to burst any time soon.

“I wanted to tell you every time, I came to your place. I had this fear that one day, your boyfriend would open the door. Or you’d tell me you found someone else.” He tightened his arms around her. “So, no. It wasn’t a spontaneous decision.”

They laid in silence for a couple of seconds before she couldn’t handle it.

“I love you,” she blurted, then froze, utterly mortified. “I mean…I like y..”

Bucky surged forward kissing her with hunger. She didn’t react at first, too shock by his reaction, then, relaxed against his body, pressing her leg between his, massaging his hardening bulge. Bucky broke the kiss, hissing, after one particular long drag on his erection.

“I love you, Doll’. ‘m pretty sure longer than you.”

She laughed breathlessly before kissing him again.

 Fin

Mother masterrliiiisssstt ✨✨✨🐱‍🏍

[sisuchan-400]

Chapter 2: “Meeting”

There was a huge silence, in the whole house, that would give chills to anyone, everyone were asleep in the whole neighborhood , all the lights were off, just a few were really awake to watch some movies with their lights off. Anny heard a sudden sound, her eyes opened as she lazily sat up and rubbed them, she saw for a second a shadow quickly leave through the open door of her room, she quickly rubbed her eyes and looked over the window in front of her bed....it had been forced open and now it was pending slightly side to side. She shivered at the sight and quickly got up, trembling shakily, as she looked at the open door of her room.

She slowly pecked out of the door and looked at the dark corridor, she took out a flashlight and slowly started to walk, she hated the fact that they had the electricity off for the whole night to spare energy.....in that city, nothing was easy to spare. The ghoul heard a sound and quickly turned the flashlight to a broken vase, she started to shake and slowly back up, she heard another sound and quickly turned to that direction....nothing, she took a low breath as she entered the kitchen, her adoptive mom would leave a little light on the table, making the kitchen the only illuminated area of the house.

Anny pecked into the living room, nothing.....into the bathroom....still nothing, she slowly rubbed her head ‘Was it an allucination?......’ she asked to herself, she slowly went back into the kitchen, she sighed and started to take some water from the fridge, before pouring it in a plastic glass. She looked at the glass slowly before drinking a bit of the water, she heard a sound again, it was similar to quick footsteps “Steve?....If this is another one of your jokes.....it is not funny!” She said. Steve was a cat that her adoptive mom would keep inside their house, Anny liked animals....but Steve was a good exception, he always like to scare her by running and the fact that he was all black did not helped.

She took courage and slowly headed back to her bedroom, hearing the sound of wind outside blow through the broken window, she took a shaky breath and peeked inside the room....no one was there....she would have thought it was only her imagination....but the window was clearly broken, and she made sure she was actually awake by pinching her cheek. She sighed and sat back down on her bed, taking out the little bow that was under the pillow, she looked at it and slowly moved it between her fingers, it was all black, with some blood splattered on its side.

“Really ‘cute’ bow.....I wonder how you got to have it” a voice suddenly said, Anny quickly got up and turned, holding the bow tightly in her hand. Astaron turned on the little night light that was on the night draw, he then looked at Anny “Who are you....and how you got into my house?” She asked, as she took in her hand a broken ruler that she broke while she was drawing.....somehow; Astaron leaned on the wall behind him “Ok, first of all, lower that ‘weapon’ of yours....seriously, it is emberassing to look at, second, are you that dumb to not see the broken window?” He asked, pointing with his thumb to the broken window. Anny looked at the ruler, then at the window, and then at the huge bug “Don’t you dare to “First of all” me, I am more dangerous than what you think” she said, holding the ruler tighter “Fluffy Ass, you would not hurt a fly with that ruler, and second, I am more armed than you” Astaron said, as he took out a gun.

The ghoul looked at the gun and slowly backed up “So I would suggest you to lower your sass down and do what I said, always if you do not want me to use this....” Astaron said, motioning the gun as he removed the security. “I would like to see you try....you can’t hit something that runs” Anny said, before bolting quickly out of the room to run to the door that brought out of the house. The huge bug groaned and rubbed his head slightly in irritation “Why everyone must make things so fucking hard for me?” He huffed.

Anny meanwhile, made her way out of the house, she ran out of the little gate and started to run fast, she could care less that she was in pj and she was freezing to death “Ok...ok......I just need to move away from my house as much as I can.....” she said to herself, suddenly a loud gun shot and a strong pain in her shoulder made her yelp in pain, as she kept running as fast as she could. Only around 5 minutes, she started to not feel her legs anymore, she was shaking hard as she suddenly fell, she started to squirm to keep moving....but her body simply was going numb, she trembled as her body stopped responding, so she simply lay there....she ended her run into a park not too distant from her house, she heard again those blasted footsteps and heard someone crouch down next to her “Tired?” Astaron asked, as he held the gun in his hand “What do you want from me?” Anny asked, her voice kinda broken due the effects of the narcotic “I will tell you once you woke up, for now, how about you just go to sleep, and let me do my work?” The bug asked, his was surely not an offer, at all.

The ghoul’s eye lids were slowly going heavy, as blood was falling from her shoulder....then her eyes simply closed. Later, she woke up in a dark grey room, tied down a chair, even her tail had been tied to the ground with some belts, she struggled hard, and saw that all the belts and bindings were loosened enough for her to move, so she started to get herself out of her bindings. She got up and shook the belts and ropes off, as she looked around, the room was empty, dark grey, with only a weak light on the ceiling to illuminate it all “Great...I had been kidnapped” she said sarcastically, she went over the door and saw it was locked, she quickly banged her body against it and groaned in pain, as her shoulder was still hurt and with the bullet in it “Ok Anny....stay calm....staaaaayyy calm......it is like in the movies....someone comes and frees you after a bit.....” she said to herself.

She remained quiet a few moments before groaning “Oh come on myself?! What are you making me think?!” She said, realizing how dumb she just sounded “I see you are a little bit in fight with yourself” She heard someone say, she quickly turned, looking around “Where are you? Show your face!” She said, as she leaned against the door, before it opened, making her fall out and bump the back of her head.

She felt Someone grip the back of her hair and pull her back up, she yelped and trembled “Do not act all scared now and just act as a grown girl” Astaron said, letting go of her hair. She rubbed the back of her head before looking at him “You are not my dad! You can’t say what I have to do” she said, before feeling a gun pointing at her head “Listen to me Fluffy ass, the struggle I had to find you is bigger than what you think. So do not make me hurt you any further, I need you togheter you know?” Astaron said, Anny remained silent.

“............Find me?........” she asked, Astaron rised a brow, realizing that she was slowly letting go and giving up, he lowered the gun and put the security on “Mind me explain you why I just kidnapped you, or you just want to make things harder for both?” He asked, groaning.

Anny looked at him and then down, she loudly sighed “Ok Ok then....If this will bring me out of this situation soon, then I will try to do what you want” she said, the huge bug turned “Then follow me” He said, as he started to walk, Anny groaned and followed, holding her shoulder. They walked down a dark corridor, illuminated my little lights “Does your shoulder still hurt?” Astaron asked “No thanks Sherlock.......I just have a bullet in my shoulder” Anny answered “You better already lower your sass, if you do not want another hole in your shoulder” Astaron said, looking at Anny. The ghoul groaned “Can I at least remove it?” She asked “Oh I will.....do not worry....or maybe you should” Astaron said, before laughing loudly, showing his sharp theet, Anny grumbled as she looked the wall of the corridor. Astaron sighed and wiped his tear “Aaaahh..........do not tell anyone that I laughed, Ok?” He suddenly said, his face darkening, pointing at her face “Ok....” she answered, mumbling and muttering every type of curse that would go throught her mind.

Astaron opened a door and entered it, Anny remained there and watched......before hearing a loud ‘Ahem’ coming from the bug, she slowly entered the room and looked around. It was a rather little room, with a couch, two arm chairs, a TV and a lot....of bottles of alcohol...there was even a strong smell of cigarette that made her want to throw up “Ugh....” she said, putting her hand over her mouth “Are you a smoker and an alcoholic?” She asked with a disgusted voice “Meh....I only drink time to time......I cannot consider myself an alcoholic, about the smoking....lets say it is what humans call ‘Bad habit’” Astaron answered, annoyed by the ask since in that city no one was bothered of what people would do. He sat down on the couch and motioned to Anny to sit, holding the gun in one hand, Anny slowly sat down, holding her shoulder.

“Ok....lets start with the basics” the bug sighed, as he sat up a bit “Name is Astaron, named by the others “The green death”.....aka stupid name that not even a clown would have” he said, as he took a newspaper showing an article titled with “Green death strikes again”. He was actually surprised to see the color drain from Anny’s face, despite her already have white skin due her being a ghoul “This is new....usually teens would think ‘cool’....but you just reacted like a criminal” he said, before throwing away the newspaper “Wha....?.....” Anny said, trying to process everything “Forget that, you do not need useless infos.... you should rather know the important stuff.....I do not need to know about you, I know all your infos” he admitted. “What? How?” Anny asked, sitting up a bit “I have good sources...now let’s get really to the important stuff....” Astaron said, sitting up “First of all, you have a list of rules to follow if you want me to spare your life of cockroach....one, you do what I say, no asking, just do it.....second, do not talk with anyone useless I give you permission to speak...third, don’t try to escape.....or you will get more bullets inside your shoulder....and fourth, do not be sassy or talk back to me” He said, leaning forward and leaning on his knees with his hands togheter “Understood?” He asked.

Anny snapped out of her thoughts and nodded, shaking “Good, now is time for you to know what I need you for” Astaron said, he got up and walked to a library, before taking out a really thin dossier of color red, he walked back to her and threw the dossier at her, wich she catched with her good hand, she looked down at it, before opening it. There were documents about movements, an organization and what surely caught Anny’s attention....a picture of a ruby.....but diamond shaped. “Before you think wrong, that is not a ruby....it is a red diamond......the red diamond” Astaron said, correcting himself “The red diamond...?” She asked under her breath, reading those very few infos written there “Yes, the most valuable diamond in existence.....” Astaron said, as he light up a cigarette, Anny looked at him and then back at the dossier “And....what do you need me for?” She asked, Astaron looked at her “Well, since I had to tell you anyway....I need you to get to the organization where it is kept.....tell me, do you recognize the name?” He asked, Anny went to the paper with the organization and read the name....her eyes widening “ ‘Golden Fire Corporation......’......it is the corporation of my father....” she said, reading the paper “Specialized into minerals and chimic resources.....” Astaron said, leaning back on the couch.

Anny looked at him “But why me?....” she asked, Astaron sighed and took the cigarette out of his mouth “Well, you are the only family member that I could reach quickly, plus, there are no news about other offsprings beside you...or in general news about other family members.......does that speak up for you?” He said, smoke coming out from his mouth. Anny remained quiet and nodded with her head shakily, before holding her shoulder “Get used to the pain, you will feel a lot of it during all the time I will use you to get to that diamond....and trust me....it will be a long period....” he said, tapping his cigarette and making the dust fall. Anny looked at him silently, before closing the dossier, she felt something in her pocket and saw the black bow in it “Ah yeah...I prefer leave it to you...I would not use it in any way” the huge bug said “But....what are we going to do?....Stay here and slack off?” Anny asked “Oh no, I am just giving you a little......pause, before anything starts...” Astaron said, leaning back on the couch “Ok...but what about the bullet?....” Anny asked, he looked at her “If remove it will make you shut up, come here and let me remove it” Astaron groaned as he sat up.

The process was...painful, the bug literally dept his fingers into the found and ripped the bullet out, making the wound larger. Things did not got really better when he tightened the bandages around it “Happy now?” Astaron asked, as he wiped the blood from his fingers, Anny simply nodded “Now just go back to your room and rest, there is a mattress in one corner of the room, you sleep there” The huge bug said. Anny lowly nodded and slowly walked off silently.

Sleep was nearly impossible, the sound of people shooting at god knew what, the loud laughing and music coming from other places made things hard for anyone who wanted to sleep in peace, Anny took out the little bow and held it in one hand, looking at it....it gave a reassuring aura to her...even tought the blood on it made her feel as well sad, she tried to connect her memories....but she was just too tired to process anything...so she simply tried to sleep, holding the bow close.

—————————————————

Ooff! It have been a while Uh? Well, finally part two has came out, And I am happy that I started to write this down again! I am trying to divide my activities into pieces and do them time to time!

The Stealers of the red diamond is an story made by me

Train TracX belongs to @fluttersdreams and @lazyskelebones

The original Astaron belongs to @fluttersdreams

[prettyboygcnius-blog]

Get To Know Mun!

  tagged by :  @trappcdbird

1. What is your middle name? Braxton (and yes, I’m a girl) 2. How old are you? 19 3. When is your birthday? August 16th 4. What is your zodiac sign? Leo, bitch! 5. What is your favorite color? Black & mint green 6. What’s your lucky number? uh 16 maybe? I don’t really have one tbh 7. Do you have any pets? A dog, two cats & a hamster 8. Where are you from? Pennsylvania aka cornfield land 9. How tall are you? 5′2 10. What shoe size are you? 5 in womens, 3 1/2 in childrens (i can’t ever find my size... ever) 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Probably only like 5 or 6 tbh 12. What was your last dream about? Trying desperately to save a baby bird from dying in the snow and failing 13. What talents do you have? Singing, acting, guitar playing, being on stage in general 14. Are you psychic in any way? Doubt it lmao 15. Favorite song? I’m a music hoe so that’s an unfair question 16. Favorite movie? 500 Days of Summer, Peter Pan (2003 version), any Leonardo DiCaprio movie, Toy Story (all 3 of them), most other Pixar films 17. Who would be your ideal partner? Matthew Gray fuckin Gubler 18. Do you want children? Literally my biggest dream 19. Do you want a church wedding? I wouldn’t mind I guess, but I’d prefer something more extravagant 20. Are you religious? Yes 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? No & hopefully I’m not jinxing myself 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Once, when I was 13 for “breaking into”  an abandoned house (my friends and I all entered through an open door... lmao) but we just paid a fine and that was it 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Joe Jonas winked at me when I was 2nd row at a DNCE concert but no, I never technically met anyone famous 24. Baths or showers? Showers, baths make me uncomfortably drowsy 25. What color socks are you wearing? White 26. Have you ever been famous? Nope, although people tell me I should be lol 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Not really, I don’t think I could stand the lack of privacy 28. What type of music do you like? Classic rock, doowop, alternative & indie - a bit of everything 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No but I damn want to! 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two, & my pillow cases feature Evan Peters & Matthew Gray Gubler 31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my right side, usually 32. How big is your house? Average, I guess? Not small and not big 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Yogurt or cereal 34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yeah but I was like 7 and barely remember 35. Have you ever tried archery? Once, at the same place I fired the gun lol 36. Favorite clean word? What? 37. Favorite swear word? Probably either fuck or dick 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? Probably under 24 hours, I’m a pussy I can’t go without sleeping lol 39. Do you have any scars? A few but they’re literally all from bug bites lmao 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Probably at one point 41. Are you a good liar? Depends on what I’m lying about 42. Are you a good judge of character? Oh hell yes 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? I had to do a southern accent for a show I was in and I’m getting pretty good at scouse thanks to @easilyswcyed​ 44. Do you have a strong accent? I have an American accent so... idk how one would define it as ‘strong’ 45. What is your favorite accent? They’re all beautiful tbh I can’t pick one 46. What is your personality type? Outgoing, easy-going, sensitive & super anxious, pretty loud, always talking at 100mph and I’m either on top of the world happy or hating everything & it kinda sucks, there’s no in between 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Myyy shoes, probably? I don’t really buy expensive clothes I’m so frugal with my money lol 48. Can you curl your tongue? Hell ye 49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie 50. Left or right handed? Right-handed 51. Are you scared of spiders? Oh fuck yeah 52. Favorite food? Probably either Chinese, pizza, or a tuna sandwich from Subway lmao 53. Favorite foreign food? Chinese to the fuckin max 54. Are you a clean or messy person? I’m neurotic about being neat & organized 55. Most used phrased? “fuck me” (when I’m pissed, not sexually lmao) ”literally” “i don’t know” 56. Most used word? Probably fuck or literally. 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? It all depends. For work I can get ready in like 20 minutes because fuck that place. If I’m going somewhere what I actually care about, it’ll probably take me an hour and a half or so (shower, hair & makeup) 58. Do you have much of an ego? Internally I guess, but I’m humble and I don’t like to seem conceded and I don’t act like I’m the shit unless I’m joking 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? I suck until it’s small enough for me to bite (lmao ayyy) 60. Do you talk to yourself? Every fucking day 61. Do you sing to yourself? Every fucking DAYYYYY 62. Are you a good singer?  I grew up in a family of musicians and I’ve been the lead of two musicals so... you tell me bitch 63. Biggest Fear? Losing someone I love, being betrayed by people who I thought I could trust, getting into a car crash/plane crash/ship wreck, spiders, elevators, fucking CENTIPEDES THAT RUN ALL OVER THE PLACE ON THREE MILLION LEGS 64. Are you a gossip? I hate to admit it but yeah I am 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? There’s so many but recently I saw Hacksaw Ridge which was fucking fantastic 66. Do you like long or short hair? It all depends on the person 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I could try, but I bet you I’d fail 68. Favorite school subject? Science and English probably, although if we’re talking electives then Graphic Design all the way 69. Extrovert or Introvert? Mostly an extrovert but there are times where I’m more introverted (I hate being around big groups of people who I don’t really know and/or where I feel like an outsider) 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope but that would be fun except I’d be terrified 71. What makes you nervous? Literally everything to ever exist in the history of everything 72. Are you scared of the dark? It depends on where I am 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I try not to cause I feel like it’s rude as hell 74. Are you ticklish? yes, & I don’t even like reading this question holy shit 75. Have you ever started a rumor? No, but I’m sure I’d passed one on 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? I’m the assistant manager at my job so when he’s gone I’m the big boss bitch 77. Have you ever drank underage? Yeah, but not often at all, I’m not a drinker 78. Have you ever done drugs? Never 79. Who was your first real crush? This kid Mikey in my kindergarten class who was cute and brunette and had freckles 80. How many piercings do you have? Five -- two in each ear & a bellybutton piercing 81. Can you roll your Rs? Hell yeah, I’m Italian so 82. How fast can you type? Pretty damn fast 83. How fast can you run? omg I SUCK at running 84. What color is your hair? Shit brown 85. What color is your eyes? Shit brown 86. What are you allergic to? Everything outside in the spring 87. Do you keep a journal? I used to, but I always forget 88. What do your parents do? Both my parents were musicians, but now my dad’s an Emergency Responder and my mom edits photos for dog show photographers. 89. Do you like your age? It kinda sucks, I don’t like growing up, I want to be 13 again 90. What makes you angry? Betrayal, being lied to, being gaslighted and called crazy for assuming things that were actually correct the entire time (if you can’t tell, there a lot going on in my life right now) 91. Do you like your own name? Oh man I used to HATE it when I was little, but it grew on me 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Harrison Michael & Audrey Lauren -- my boyfriend and I love The Beatles & Audrey Hepburn 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? Both! (oh god please not twins though) 94. What are you strengths? I’m determined, hard-working, friendly & a perfectionist 95. What are your weaknesses? I can be a pessimist and I’m way too sensitive 96. How did you get your name? My mom & dad were going through CDs for name ideas and they both saw Carly Simon and immediately fell in love with Carly 97. Were your ancestors royalty? No but my boyfriend’s were 98. Color of your bedspread? White sheets & a black comforter 99. Color of your room? White walls & a light green carpet 100. Favorite celebrity? Matthew Gray Gubler!!!!!!, Evan Peters, Joe Jonas, Nick Jonas, Chris Evans, Andrew Garfield, Leonardo DiCaprio, and literally a thousand more but those are my babes

Tagging; @deocrumtorquent, @@easilyswcyed @@darkcndtwisty @@rileypalmer @the-storm-within-me @@snowinabottle @everythingelle and anyone else!

[samanthasroberts]

Guns, political turmoil and hummingbirds in the living room – my farewell to Latin America

Venezuelan president Hugo Chvez took one look at the Guardians correspondent and yelled out: Hey, Gringo! But if he could never quite fit in, Jonathan Watts has come to love the continent he is now leaving after five years

It was the merest of glimpses, but no less thrilling for that. A dark, sleek body, roughly the size of a person, arched elegantly out of the Tapajs river as we approached the So Luis rapids deep in the Amazon. A fraction of a second later, it plunged back below the swirling waters, leaving me wondering if my imagination or the morning mist were playing tricks. But no, it was real. It had been close enough to the boat to be sure of that. But what was it?

Hugo Chvez took one look at Jonathan Watts (above) and yelled out: Hey, Gringo!

Perhaps a pirarucu (AKA arapaima), the giant of the Amazon, which can grow up to 10ft in length. But the lack of scales suggested it was more likely to be a dolphin. There were two species in these waters: the pink boto and the darker tucuxi. I concluded it was the latter.

The thought filled me with both hope and dread. Eleven years earlier during my previous post as China correspondent I had joined an international team of scientists on an expedition along the Yangtze river looking for the baiji freshwater dolphin. It was too late. Not one could be found. The animal was declared functionally extinct a victim of industrial pollution, river traffic, overfishing and hydroelectric dams. After 20m years of existence, it was an alarming indication of a dying river. Yet here in Brazil on the Tapajs, the freshwater dolphins albeit of a different genus could be found without searching. There was still time to save them. It felt like a second chance.

One of the reasons I moved from China to Brazil to become Latin America correspondent in 2012 was to look for a more sustainable development model. Back then, Brazil seemed to be doing a lot of things right. Its booming economy had just overtaken that of the UK; the popular leftwing government was reducing inequality; deforestation of the Amazon was slowing; Brazilian negotiators had played a positive role in climate and biodiversity negotiations; and my new home of Rio de Janeiro was about to host the 2012 Rio +20 Earth Summit, the 2014 World Cup final and the 2016 Olympic Games. Besides, I told my teenage daughters, who were doubtful about leaving Beijing, there would be less smog, more blue skies and a warm and friendly vibe. We were all in for a shock.

Adjustment was tougher than I expected. The differences were so vast. On the plus side, I grinned just to walk along the street and take in the views of what is surely among the most beautiful cities on the planet. My daily jog around the Lagoa took in the sights of the Christ the Redeemer statue, forested hillsides, the Rocinha favela, the peaks of Pedra da Gavea, Pedra Bonita and Dois Irmos. I also saw more species of trees, birds, insects and mammals on those 7.4km (4.6-mile) runs than I would see in a whole year in Beijing. Similarly, I heard more good live music in my first week in Rio than perhaps my entire nine years in China.

After the communist states of east Asia, the openness and accessibility of democratic Latin American leaders was also a welcome shock. Having spent years in usually fruitless applications to interview ministers and heads of state in China and North Korea, I came to my new post in Brazil with a target list of three prominent politicians that I would like to meet during my first year Dilma Rousseff, Marina Silva and Alfredo Sirkis. Within a week, I had seen all of them either in press conferences or for lunch. As I was later to learn, getting politicians in this part of the world to talk is often less of a problem than getting them to stop.

Dilma Rousseff: one of the great leaders of South America, before she was toppled. Photograph: Brazil Photo Press/CON/LatinContent/Getty Images

Other initial comparisons were less favourable. Cariocas (as residents of Rio call themselves) seemed far less focussed on education, culture, history, science and work than Beijingers. If they had spare time and money, many preferred to spend it on their body (tattoos, gyms or cosmetic surgery) so they could look good on the beach. And, contrary to the happy-go-lucky party-people image, they could be extremely conservative. One time, I was denied entry to a press conference I was supposed to be moderating because I failed to meet the dress code (although admittedly flower-patterned shorts and flip-flops werent the ideal match for my dress shirt). They also voted repeatedly for several of the countrys most rightwing politicians and some took to the streets calling for a return to the 1964-85 military dictatorship.

In those early days, however, I was mainly frustrated. Everything felt unambitious, slow and unreliable compared with China. Was it necessary to have three different types of plug socket? Why on earth did I have to keep providing my mothers birth name for the most routine applications? The grotesque bureaucracy was not my only grumble. The notorious inequality was quickly evident, as was the enduring social legacy of what had been the worlds biggest slave-trading nation. Apart from music, cultural life seemed poor and the food was bland compared with Asia. Property rental was absurdly complicated and the apartments were horrendously overpriced due to the countrys then super-strong currency (Brazil was infamous at the time for selling the worlds most expensive iPhones). I spent much of the first year sleeping in a mouldy shed that leaked in tropical rainstorms, obliging me to have a bucket by the pillow to catch the drops.

More importantly, it became apparent that I had been sold an overhyped image of Brazil. Far from being a new model, the past five years have proved a case study in how not to run a country.

This has been a spectacularly tumultuous period, encompassing the impeachment of a president, the worst economic contraction in 100 years, the biggest corruption scandal in the countrys history, millions taking to the streets in protest, an unimaginable 1-7 defeat in the World Cup, a pre-Olympic Zika epidemic and a resurgence of violent crime and environmental destruction. My Brazilian journalist friends are not sure whether to feel grateful for the abundance of work or horrified at the flood of miserable stories. Weve had 40 years of news packed into the last four years, observed one. Its surreal. We seem to be reporting on the collapse of the republic, lamented another. It is impossible not to feel sorry for the country.

Brazil has slipped into reverse gear on just about every front. Since 2012, the economy has shrunk by 9% and unemployment has almost doubled. Last year, deforestation of the Amazon accelerated by 29% and violent killings in Rio de Janeiro increased by almost 30%. Not surprisingly, the public has never been more frustrated with the government. Five years ago, the then-president Dilma Rousseff enjoyed approval ratings of 64%. That had fallen to 10% when she was politically lynched by her former allies last year. Her successor, Michel Temer, is even more unpopular. The most recent poll could find only 2% of voters who thought he was doing a good job.

A country in turmoil: protesters during a nationwide general strike in Rio de Janeiro on 30 June. Photograph: Mario Tama/Getty Images

In some ways, the story of Brazil from 2012 to 2017 has been the inverse of China from 2003 to 2012. In Asias biggest country, I observed sometimes brutal stability and spectacular economic growth. In Latin Americas, I have witnessed turmoil and contraction. I have certainly inhaled a lot more teargas, particularly since the mass protests ahead of the 2013 Confederations Cup, which were a turning point.

Regionally, the broad political trend has been a weakening of populist, leftwing power. In the past five years, the two great figureheads of the Latin left Fidel Castro and Hugo Chvez have died. The Brazilian Workers party founder Luiz Incio Lula da Silva has been put on trial and his party usurped from office by centre-right parties that have proved at least as corrupt. In Argentina, the formerly Pernist government of Cristina Fernndez de Kirchner has been replaced by the more conservative Mauricio Macri. In Bolivia, Evo Morales lost a referendum that would have allowed him to stand again for re-election. Venezuela, meanwhile, plunges ever deeper into crisis under Nicols Maduro. But Chile, Peru, Uruguay, Colombia, Ecuador, Nicaragua and Mexico are all exceptions in different ways. Latin American politics are too heterogenous for perfect generalisations.

A clearer pattern and one perhaps that underlines the tumult both here and elsewhere in the world is the increasing evidence of climate change across the region. Patagonian lakes are drying up and glaciers retreating; Rios beaches have been battered by record storm surges; Chiles forests were devastated earlier this year by unprecedentedly high temperatures and wildfires; and then Lima was hit by freak floods. Perhaps the most alarming story, however, was So Paulo the biggest city in Latin America suffering the most prolonged drought in its history. I recall a dystopian moment when I was told there was no coffee at a Starbucks on Avenida Paulista the citys main thoroughfare because the taps had run dry. We only have beer or Coke, the cashier said.

The destruction of the rainforest is making matters worse in ways that are only slowly being understood. But it often appears to be a bigger story overseas than in the media of Brazil and other Amazonian nations. As well as being a major source of carbon emissions and a threat to biodiversity, the loss of foliage is also eroding the forests role as a climate regulator. Recent studies have shown that the Amazon acts as a giant water pump, channelling moisture inland via aerial rivers and rainclouds that form over the forest more dramatically than over the sea. As trees are felled, this function is weakened, which leads to more severe droughts and more extreme weather events.

The Xingu river near the area where the Belo Monte dam complex is under construction in the Amazon basin. Photograph: Mario Tama/Getty Images

Yet, even as scientists grow more alarmed, politicians are becoming less willing to act. In response to demands from the agribusiness lobby (which has become more powerful due to demand from China), Rousseff relaxed the Forest Code, Brazils main law against illegal logging and land clearance. The current administration of Michel Temer has slashed the environment ministry budget, diluted licensing regulations, and is moving to reduce the size of conservation parks and indigenous territories. In Brazil and elsewhere in the region, activists who stand up against the loggers, farmers, miners and dam builders run the risk of beatings and murder as I saw on an unforgettable trip to Lbrea. More often than not, those in the frontline are indigenous communities who are trying to protect their territory, such as the Juruna, the Kaapor and the Mundruku and the Kichwa and Shuar. These days, the tribes wear T-shirts, ride motorbikes and use laptops, but they still often suffer the same fate as their ancestors when the first European settlers arrived either driven off their land or murdered for resisting. Most prominent among them in this period was Berta Cceres, an indigenous rights and environment activist in Honduras who won the Goldman prize in 2015 for her campaigns against deforestation and hydropower dams. In an email exchange at the time, she told me environmental protection was a cause worth fighting for. We must undertake the struggle in all parts of the world, wherever we may be, because we have no other spare or replacement planet. We have only this one, and we have to take action, she said. A year later she was assassinated by a gunman.

This is the worlds most murderous continent. In Central America, violence is the main driver for perilous child migration to the US, though it remains to be seen how this might be affected by the wall on the Mexican border being planned by the new caudilho in the White House.

Reporting here has its risks, though local journalists are far more exposed than foreign correspondents. The only time I saw a gang member fire a gun up close was after a visit to a crack den in the town of Lins, when I asked him why he had chosen his weapon. On a street in broad daylight, he squeezed a dozen or so rounds into the air that made me instantly regret my question. A few weeks later, police pushed his gang out of Lins in a pacification operation. I imagine they are back now. Thanks to a series of scandals and cuts in the police budget, the sound of gunfire is sadly becoming common again in Rio. Recently, I went to sleep three nights in a row listening to protracted shootouts echoing across the valley.

Apart from that, there were few hairy moments. The only crimes I experienced were having my credit card cloned three times and being pickpocketed. I was generally more worried about flying over the Andes (which often comes with gut-wrenching turbulence), the interruption of a dinner in Maranho in north-eastern Brazil by an uninvited tarantula, and the possibility of diseases such as malaria, dengue and chikungunya. Zika was added to the list in 2016. Although my head told me the risks were mainly only to pregnant women, I could not help but feel a little unease as well as irony at being bitten by a mosquito during a press conference in which the head of the World Health Organization, Margaret Chan, explained why the Zika epidemic had just been declared a global emergency. The concerns were genuine, though the imminent Olympics meant the risks were overhyped. When the Brazilian government subsequently launched its biggest ever military operation against the tiny insect, it felt a little like something out of a science-fiction film.

In this continent of magical realism, the weird and wonderful were never far away. Evangelicals in a heavy-metal church in the Mar favela described visits by an angel in the form of a head-banger who would dance among them, shirtless with long hair, army boots, black trousers and chains. In the Andean mountains, I witnessed what looked at first like something out of an ancient myth: a beast with wings and horns charging down a matador. It was, in fact, a cruel and dangerous sport that involved stitching the talons of an endangered condor into the hide of a traumatised bull for the entertainment of a chicha-sodden crowd at a Yawar festival bullfight. Then there was a mass in the countryside of Rio by rebel anti-Vatican priests who insisted the pope was not Catholic enough. They preferred Vladimir Putin.

There have also been inspiring, uplifting stories: the end of the worlds oldest civil war in Colombia, the overcoming of cold war hostilities between Cuba and the United States and the subsequent visits to Havana by Pope Francis, Barack Obama and the Rolling Stones.

But when it comes to liberal, well-run countries, Uruguay led the way by legalising marijuana, ramping up renewable energy and boasting a former president, Jos Mujica, who lived his anti-consumerist values by eschewing a palace home for his charmingly ramshackle farmhouse.

Despite Brazils many woes, there was cause for hope in the success of Brazils bolsa familia poverty relief programme (though it is now threatened by austerity cuts), the courage and canninness of indigenous groups fighting against loggers, the idealism of activists and prosecutors fighting illegal deforestation and exposing timber laundering , and the courage and talent of community journalists who provided a diary of life in Rios favelas ahead of the Olympics.

A vibrant culture: a dancer takes part in carnival. Photograph: PeopleImages/Getty Images

I will miss this continent. It has been an immense privilege to visit stunningly beautiful places such as Patagonia, Alter do Cho, Machu Picchu, Yasuni and Havana, and I am grateful to collaborators and editors who have worked with me on stories ranging from guerrilla graffiti pedants in Quito and the worlds greatest vinyl collector in So Paulo, to the source-to-sewer journey of a drop of water in Mexico City and a retracing of part of a journey taken by the Edwardian explorer Percy Fawcett.

Although I could never claim to blend in (Chvez took one look at me and yelled out: Hey, Gringo!), I now think of Latin America as home (particularly since I moved out of the shed and into a forest apartment). I still dont appreciate the three-plug electrical system or Brazils bureaucracy, but I have come to love the geniality of the people, the vibrancy of the markets and much of the food especially aai, caldo de cana, tapioca wraps and Amazonian fish.

I leave at a difficult time. Troubles lie ahead for Rio, Brazil and the world. This is not just because of a poor Olympic legacy (though homelessness has surged alarmingly in the host city since the Games) or woeful national leadership (Temer is the first sitting president to be charged with corruption and eight of his cabinet are implicated in bribery scandals).

In China, I came to believe environmental crises underlie much of the economic and political tension in the world. In Latin America, I found reason to hope it is not too late to do something about that. For sure, the trends are bad. But there is much here worth fighting for. Latin America may not offer a model of sustainable development, but compared with Asia it is relatively unscarred in terms of overpopulation and pollution, and compared with the US and Europe, average consumption is modest and biodiversity is rich. River dolphins in the Amazon are only a part of that wealth. The value of this natural heritage is easier to feel than to measure

I will leave Brazil healthier and happier than I arrived. As I write this, the sun is streaming through the papaya and mango trees from a gloriously clear blue sky. It is midwinter, but the temperature is a balmy 25C. This morning, I cycled through the forest up to the Vista Chinesa viewpoint. Marmosets were waiting in the garden for food when I returned a couple of hours later. A hummingbird just flew into the living room looking for the nectar water that I forgot to leave at its usual spot by the window. Before I go, maybe Ill catch a final glimpse of a toucan, a jacu or a porcupine. Perhaps the gang of capuchin will invade the kitchen in search of an egg or a banana. There will be at least one possum. Then after 21 years on the road it will be time to return to London, to a new job, to an office, to a flat, and to pigeons, sparrows and, who knows, perhaps a squirrel. Im curious whether my old home will feel like a foreign country.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/08/26/guns-political-turmoil-and-hummingbirds-in-the-living-room-my-farewell-to-latin-america/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/08/26/guns-political-turmoil-and-hummingbirds-in-the-living-room-my-farewell-to-latin-america/