#I want to just fuckin hop a plane to god knows where and just kinda ride it out

[thesnacken]

I'm gonna dump about smth in the tags don't mind me.

[ma-sulevin]

In which it’s clear that I don’t get to do recreational drugs and have decided to make the Lamb of God Church episcopal for no particular reason. Some of the tags are more applicable to this chapter than the others, so, uh. Give them another glance.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E, but mostly for swearing Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 6300, chapter four of twelve

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

---

It’s almost like John knows exactly when she crosses over the Henbane River and back into the Valley. Her radio crackles to life, interrupting the comfortable silence in the car; Sharky jerks in his seat like he was falling asleep, and Mattie covers up her giggle with a little cough.

“Why… is it so difficult for you to understand that all of your efforts are absolutely, unquestionably… worthless?”

She hisses at his words, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles blanch. She grits her teeth and pushes too hard on the accelerator, taking the car from a comfortably legal 45 miles per hour up to 55. Sharky reaches up and grabs the handle over the door, but doesn’t speak.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not! You're selfish. All you're really doing is quenching your thirst for blood.”

His voice is mocking, derisive, and she bares her teeth even though he can’t see. She sees a peggie on the side of the road with a regular person in the dirt on their knees, and she veers to run them over without a second thought. The peggie crumples; the captive hops to their feet and sprints away.

Maybe John has a point. Maybe she does have a thirst for blood. 

Like his people are any better.

“We're going to share a beautiful moment, and you're going to tell me your deepest… darkest… fears.”

The radio clicks off. Mattie forces herself to ease off the accelerator, but she can’t make her fingers relax on the wheel.

“A beautiful moment, huh? Sounds gross.”

She lets out a bark of laughter, fingers relaxing on their own accord. When she glances at Sharky out of the corner of her eyes, he’s smirking at her, eyes sparkling. 

“Man, he sure does have a hard-on for you.”

“Oh, my god,” she laughs again, reaching over to slap at his arm. “Gross.”

“So I’m thinkin’,” he continues, and she can hear him smiling even though she’s trying to focus on the road, “you should probably just fuck and get it over with.”

“No! Sharky! Oh my god .” She hits him again, but they’re both laughing. “You’re gonna be sorry when I throw up in this car.” 

He just shrugs and fishes around in his pockets for what turns out to be a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “I mean, if you don’t wanna give one up for the team…” He’s faster at finding his lighter, but he only gets to take one good drag before Mattie’s reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Thanks, dude,” she says, sticking it between her lips instead. She winks at him. “Thoughtful of you.”

He rolls his eyes and lights a second one. This one she lets him keep.

---

She’s met Nick Rye a handful of times, mostly at the occasional neighborhood barbeque she was bribed by Joey or Staci into attending, once to give him a ticket for going near double the speed limit in the Henbane (she knocked the recorded speed down on the ticket to give him a break, but he was going very fast), and the sight of peggies crawling all over his property makes her stomach turn.

Boomer is thrilled to be free of the car, running ahead with gleeful barks to bite at the heels of the first peggie he comes across. Shit’s on fire and there’s debris on the runway, and she suddenly remembers she never got to take the aerial tour he was always bragging about.

Sharky helps her bring down the peggies, setting even more shit on fire, and then the little battle is done (when did killing only six people become a “little battle”?) and they find Nick pacing in his garage. 

He gives her a full on hug when he sees her, almost knocks the hat off his head with his enthusiasm, and she squeezes him back in exhausted relief. She’d rather die -- actually die -- than have something bad happen to him or Kim. They’re good people, some of the best.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, then he releases her from his hug and puts his hands on her shoulders instead. He shakes her a little, still worked up, and is too loud when he says, “We’re fuckin’ trapped! I’m gonna kill that sonuvabitch John Seed.”

Mattie nods at him, not all that concerned at the threat even though technically she should be. “What’s up, Nick?”

“You see those peggies take off with my plane? We need it! Without it, my family is fucked. Please.” He looks up at Sharky, then back at Mattie, eyebrows drawn together over his mirrored glasses. She can see herself in them, dirty and sweaty, deep circles under her eyes, already nodding before he’s finished asking, “I need your help.”

“You think John has it as his ranch?” She’s never been, personally, but she knows people who have been, and it’s supposed to be beautiful. It also has a private airstrip, because John flies planes as a hobby . “I guess it’s the only other place that makes sense.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Nick says, but he’s already letting her go and walking deeper into his garage. “I just can’t leave Kim, you know.”

Mattie and Sharky trail after him. “Yeah. How’s she doing?”

“She’s due any second. Here, you feelin’ okay?” Nick squats behind the counter and pops back up with ammo boxes in his hands. He sets them down and disappears again, coming up with a first aid kit. “I really appreciate you doin’ this for us. You know how to fly?”

She shrugs, takes the ammo she needs and then lets Sharky take a look. She doesn’t take the first aid kit.

“I’ve flown once,” she says, and it feels like a lifetime ago. “Stace -- uh, one of the other deputies was a licensed pilot, and he used to make me practice on the simulator so he could boss me around.”

Nick winces, but he nods anyway. “I can talk you through it. Just call me on the radio when you find my plane.”

“Sure thing,” she says. “I’ll go now.” 

She makes it out of the garage with Nick still thanking her, then she turns to Sharky as soon as Nick is out of earshot. “I want you to stay here.”

“What? No fuckin’ way.” He’s too loud, so she shushes him, but he just glares down at her. 

She falls into her cop stance without really thinking about it, one hand on her hip and the other hovering near her pistol. She levels a glare at him and he stares right back, not at all intimidated by the woman he spent the night spooning through her tears. “It’s dangerous, and it’s faster if I just get in by myself and fly the plane home.”

“You can’t go by yourself!” Sharky flails his arms around as though that will help him make his point. “It’s dangerous! You need my backup!”

“I need to go in quietly, and you’re good at a lot of things, but I don’t think being quiet is one of them.”

He frowns, the fight melting out of him. “I don’t like it.”

“I’ll come right back here,” she says, promises. He doesn’t understand she won’t die if she’s alone. She won’t die, she can’t die, but he… he can. She doesn’t want him to die. She doesn’t want that on her conscience, not when she can keep him safe just by making him stay with the Ryes. “Okay?”

She offers him her fist, and he bumps it after a second’s hesitation.

She makes it halfway to the ranch before he catches up with her.

“God damn it, Sharky.” She covers her eyes with her hands. “I thought you were going to stay with Nick.”

He offers her a grin. “You see, I thought about it, but I just can’t sit by and let you walk into danger by yourself. You haven’t arrested me yet, and I respect that you totally could’ve by now, but that means I owe you. You’ve pulled my ass out of the fire, literally and figuratively, and I just think I need to stick by you. You know. Ride or die?”

“Ride or die?”

Christ, that makes her chest hurt. What has she done to inspire that loyalty?

“Yeah!” He shrugs. “So… we doin’ this?”

She wants to say no. She wants to send him back to Nick, back to where he’s safe. But… he won’t listen. He obviously is dead set on staying with her. All she can do is try to keep him safe.

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess we are.”

---

John’s ranch is absolutely crawling with peggies, and Mattie sits at the edge of the property, still concealed in the trees, watching them go about their business through her binoculars. Boomer sits alert at her side, ears cocked, nose testing the air every few seconds in case one of the cultists gets close enough to smell. Sharky sits at her other side, chin in his hand, watching the peggies with a sense of detached boredom.

She finally lowers the binoculars when he sighs and starts gnawing on his nails.

“Are you having a problem?”

“I’m just ready to bang some peggie heads together, that’s all,” he says, and at least he’s kinda quiet this time. “Didn’t think it would take this long.”

Anger flares, hot and bright. “I’m trying not to get you fuckin’ killed since you won’t fuckin’ stay at the Ryes’.” Sharky freezes at the bite in her voice, lowers his hand to his lap and presses his lips together. His expression looks so much like a kicked puppy that she’s torn between laughing and feeling bad; she settles for feeling bad. “Just… give me another minute, okay? We don’t want to burn the place down.”

When his expression doesn’t shift, she leans into his space and bumps his shoulder with hers. He huffs, then when she looks back over at him, he smiles. 

“Maybe you don’t want to burn the place down.”

She raises the binoculars back up to her face, finds the peggie sniper standing on John’s roof. “Keep it in your pants, Boshaw.”

She listens to him snickering for a minute and doesn’t fight the smile from blooming on her face. It’s almost easy to forget they’re about to commit several crimes in the process of stealing Nick’s plane back from a cult leader.

“Okay, I’m going to sneak around that way,” she says, pointing around the back of the house, towards the garage. “You cover me, take out anyone who happens to notice. Once you see me in the plane, head back to Nick’s.”

Sharky frowns again. “But--”

“Would you just fucking listen--”

Boomer barks, once, a sharp warning before taking off. Something lands in the dirt between Sharky and Mattie, comes to a rest against her knee, and she doesn’t even panic when she looks down to see a grenade, just scoops it up and tosses it back where she thinks it came from -- back toward John’s house, into his yard, where it explodes and sets a truck on fire.

“Holy shit,” Sharky starts, but she barrels right over him with a simple command.

“Go!”

She rolls to the side and vaguely hopes he’s done the same, then she pops up right in the space of the peggie who threw the grenade, running forward to finish the job. She punches him in the throat, then grabs the back of his head and introduces it to her knee. It crunches sickeningly, sends pain radiating up toward her hip, and when she drops him there’s a dark, wet stain on her jeans.

The rest of the cultists fall quickly, though one gets close enough to give her what she’s sure is going to be a beautiful black eye when she’s busy ripping the wires out of the radio tower. If they hadn’t cut off most of the usual means of communication in the county to keep citizens from calling for help, they wouldn’t have to keep setting these things up for her to tear apart. 

John’s front yard is littered with corpses, abandoned weapons, and two burning trucks filling the air with thick smoke and the acrid scent of burning rubber and hot metal. Boomer runs up to her with a handgun in his mouth, and she’d be more worried if she’d never seen him do it before. She can’t quite figure out how to get him to quit, so she just leans down and takes the slobbery weapon from him and scratches him behind the ear in thanks.

He runs off again, and his spot on the porch is replaced by Sharky who has his hands tucked deep in his pockets and a wide grin on his face.

“Glad you brought me now?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but that grin is infectious and she can’t stop herself from laughing just a heartbeat later. “You’re a dork,” she says, and he just keeps beaming down at her. “Wanna go look through John’s shit?”

“Hell yeah!” Sharky bounces like this is the first time he’s considered he has mostly free reign of John’s house, takes three normal steps toward the open front doors before breaking into a jog. Mattie trails behind him, not hiding her little smile, fingers brushing over the tender spot along her cheekbone. 

It takes her three tries to find John’s kitchen, first opening up a door to a study and then a formal dining room (of fucking course -- he probably hosts Seed family dinners here, all the fucking cult leaders in one place, listening to Joseph preach and watching Faith float around the room), and then when she finally pushes the kitchen door open she nearly bumps into Sharky on his way out. He’s got a real ice pack in his hand, the kind with the little gel balls inside so it will stay flexible, and he’s wrapping a hand towel around it.

“You okay?” Even with her cold fingers pressed back to her bruise, concern that he’s hurt and she hadn’t noticed fills her, wrinkles her forehead. 

He rolls his eyes at her, then cups her jaw with one hand to hold her still and presses the ice pack against her temple. His fingers tighten when she hisses and flinches away, holding her still, and she glares up at him with her good eye.

“ ’s cold.” It’s also most of why she was looking for the kitchen, and she’s only arguing because she’s kind of embarrassed at how she assumed it was for him and how good it feels to have someone worry about her beyond what she can do for them. His fingers are warm where they’re still cupping her jaw, his thumb sweeping across her cheek, and she’s almost entirely sure he’ll be able to feel her blushing just as easy as he can see it, so she closes her eyes and leans into the gentle touch.

“I came in here lookin’ for frozen peas or some shit, but figured this would do just as well. Hell of a shiner you’re getting here, Dep. Didn’t think you’d let a peggie ever get close enough to you to take a swing.”

She licks her lips before she speaks. “It was a lucky punch.”

The ice repositions on her face, moves closer to where the punch landed, right where the bruising is worst. “You got shit luck.”

The laugh that escapes her is too high pitched, a little too hysterical, because Sharky doesn’t even know the half of it. His stroking thumb stills on her face, and she forces herself to pull back from the breakdown she can feel bubbling up in her chest. She doesn’t know if she’s going to keep laughing or burst into tears or just curl into Sharky’s body heat like a cat, but she needs to stop it.

She takes a deep breath and reaches up to take the ice pack from him. He doesn’t move right away, not even when she covers his ice-cold fingers with her own slightly warmer ones, just stands there with his hands on her face until she opens her eyes and looks up at him.

The moment stretches, silent, and then it’s gone as he lets his hands drop back to his sides and he takes a step back. “I’m gonna see if I can find any contraband,” he informs her, too loud in the quiet. “Or like, a weird sex dungeon. Seems like Johnny’d have one, somewhere.”

“You sound like Adelaide,” Mattie says, forcing a smile, glad for the subject change. She pushes deeper into the kitchen, admiring the size and decor despite herself. It would be amazing to cook in here.

Sharky’s laugh follows him down the hall, and Mattie’s finally alone again, able to lean against the counter and groan into her hand.

How has her life come to this?

---

John calls her on the radio when she takes off in Nick’s plane, clammy hands clutching the throttle and her heart already in her throat. When she hears his hissed voice coming through the receiver, she’s afraid for a few heart-stopping moments that she’ll actually be sick in Nick’s plane and she’ll have to return it to him covered in vomit.

She swallows hard and doesn’t get sick.

John’s not sure whether to be more mad that she’s taken over his house or that she’s stolen Nick’s plane, but he does manage to make a confusing reference to his walls screaming and a threat about skinning her and hanging her skin over the mantle -- which, gross, who even thinks about that? -- and she resolutely ignores the talk button on her radio. He doesn’t deserve any response she can think of.

Nick comes on when John’s finished pitching his goddamned hissy fit, guiding her through a couple of exercises to make sure the plane’s in top shape, then she flies the plane along the river back to his house.

If flying didn’t have to happen so high off the ground, she’d like it a lot more.

---

By the time she makes it back to the ranch -- having helped Nick defend his property, load his car, un load his car, and accepted water and snacks from Kim -- it’s dark out and weariness has settled so deep inside her bones she’s not sure she’ll ever feel fully rested again.

The vehicle fires have burned themselves out in John’s driveway, the doors are closed, and no peggies are in sight. Boomer’s asleep on the front porch, but he doesn’t do much more than open his eyes and sigh heavily, like he’s saying good, you’re back, do you know what time it is, young lady?, and roll over to sleep more.

The place is hazy with smoke when she opens the door, the distinctive scent of marijuana hitting her right in the face. She coughs, starts to hold her breath, then she just laughs.

“Sharky?”

He waves when he hears his name, and she finds him reclining on one of the leather couches, hat and shoes off, a joint in his hand and an ashtray balanced on his chest. 

“Party got started without ya,” he says, smile soft as he offers the joint over to her. When she hesitates, he prods, “C’mon, who’s gonna arrest you for it?”

Oh, well, fuck it. “Good point,” she says, and takes it from him. She inhales deeply, closes her eyes and holds her breath for as long as she can before releasing a thick cloud of smoke. “You been carrying this the whole time?”

“That’s the best part! John had two dime bags sitting right on the table here. Wonder what Joe would think about that.” 

She takes another deep drag before she starts to feel her muscles loosening. “They probably think it’s okay, ‘cause it’s natural, like the bliss or whatever the fuck,” she says, then passes the joint back and sits right on the low table to start unlacing her boots. “Which is, whatever, I don’t care, but it would be fuckin’ hilarious to finally nail John on possession when we know he’s doing all this other shit.”

The urge to start laughing rises up and she fights against it, focuses on getting out of her boots, then out of her bloody flannel. She badly needs a shower, but the thought of walking around until she finds one is just exhausting.

“What’s all that?” Sharky’s hand is suddenly in her space, fingers brushing over the sharpie marks on her arm. She shivers and doesn’t hide it as his touch tickles her sensitive skin, turning her hand to catch his as he starts to pull away.

“It’s how many times I’ve died,” she says, honesty coming out before she can think to lie. “I need to add one, though, since there was a fight at Nick’s.”

Sharky’s hand disappears from her view, and her stomach drops when she realizes what she’s said, what she’s admitted to, what he must be thinking --

“What the fuck?”

His hand is back, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so he can fully see the lines covering her skin. The oldest ones, from Fall's End, are starting to fade, but there are so many others, covering her from the crook of her elbow right down to her wrist. She started out making the marks too big, so they start to taper off around #15, but they’re still easy enough to count.

“Thirty-two? You tryna tell me you died thirty-two times?”

She risks a glance up at his face, breath still caught up in her throat, but it doesn’t look like he’s laughing at her, or like he thinks she’s gone crazy. He just looks… surprised, almost in awe.

“Yeah. Mostly at the beginning, when I was by myself.” Her breath catches again when he runs the fingers of his free hand down her forearm again, clears her throat to move past it. “You’n Hurk helped a lot.”

“You’re not dead, though.”

“No. Every time I just… listen, I can’t explain it, okay? It really fucking hurts, and then everything goes black, and then I start over a few minutes before I died, with enough time to do something different. If that grenade today had exploded, I would have started over right before it landed between us, and I would’ve known to throw it back.”

She watches his face as he listens to her and stares at her arm. His eyes are red, his lips parted like he’s so shocked he just forgot to close them, and the reverence on his face is almost enough to make her cry.

“Is that what happened? Today?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her weariness creeping back and making her eyelids too heavy. “I’ve just tossed enough grenades back where they came from to not be freaked out by it, s’all.”

“Well, goddamn,” Sharky murmurs. He releases her hand and sits up straighter, meeting her eyes from his seat on the couch. “God damn .”

“Yeah, that’s the sum of it.”

Sharky takes another hit and passes the joint off to her. She takes it then snuffs it out on the ashtray that he’d let fall to the floor when he sat up.

“So you believe me?”

He blinks at her as he refocuses his attention on her instead of whatever he was looking at on the ceiling. “What? ’Course I do. You wouldn’t lie about that, would you, Dep?”

“Well. No. I just thought you’d think I’m crazy.”

He blinks at her real slow, then shakes his head again. “You’ve heard all Hurky’s stories, right?” He stops talking long enough to pull his hoodie off over his head, then he lies down on the couch. “You think all that’s real, but I wouldn’t believe you? None of this shit makes sense -- hey, watch the moneymaker.”

Mattie, who started crawling into Sharky’s space the second he was horizontal, finally gives in to the giggles brought on by a combination of relief and the gentle high from John’s weed. She removes her knee from between his legs -- the source of his panic -- by just collapsing onto his chest. He shifts, wrapping one arm around her and tucking the other behind his head.

“I don’t know if we’re in, like, a video game, or a simulation, or some fuckin’ Groundhog Day situation, or what. You’re like a, a, oh, what’re those birds or whatever that die and then come back to life? With the fire?”

She’s still giggling quietly, head on his chest, eyes already drooping as he warms her. “Phoenix.”

“Hell yeah, you’re like a phoenix! Joe-bro is definitely going down now. You can’t be stopped.” There’s a pause as his fingers tickle against the bare skin of her arm, just at the place where the strap of her tank top is, and she lets the motion lull her to the edge of sleep. “Thirty-two times. Goddamn, shorty, you’re somethin’ else.”

She falls asleep with a smile on her face.

---

There’s a little dog in John’s bedroom. It’s tiny and white and fluffy, and the minute it sees Mattie walking in, it runs forward with its tail going so fast she thinks its butt might lift right up. The room smells like piss, and she feels a deep pang of guilt -- not for John’s rug, which has obviously been the dog’s bathroom over the last eighteen hours, but because the dog has been stuck in one room without food or water.

It’s wearing a little collar with its rabies license and a little heart-shaped tag that says its name is Moose, and the search for a shower is derailed as she scoops the dog up and takes it outside.

“You got a dog? What the hell you got a dog for?” Sharky’s eating at the long table by the empty fireplace, but he abandons his food when she appears at the foot of the stairs with the little bundle of excited white fur. “John has a dog?”

“Apparently.” Sharky opens the back door for her and follows her into the yard. Moose doesn’t move a single step away before he starts to pee in the grass, and doesn’t even care when Boomer trots up for an investigative sniff. “Poor little guy was in the bedroom upstairs. Did you see dog food in the kitchen, or anything?”

“Lemme check.” He takes another second to stare down at the dog, then he kind of bumps his elbow into hers before he goes back into the house. 

After Moose finishes peeing, he returns Boomer’s attentions, sniffing the new animal until they’ve both decided the other one can be trusted. Curiosity sated, they start to play, Boomer encouraging Moose to chase him around the yard before returning the favor.

It’s cute, watching them run around like this. It’s so much closer to what she thought adult life would be like than what she has right now that an ache settles into her chest and she has to clear her throat to stop herself from crying.

It doesn’t matter.

Moose cuts to the house mid-run, zooming past Mattie and through the still-open door without stopping. She follows, Boomer ignoring her, and finds Sharky in the kitchen spooning food from a can into a little steel bowl. Moose is at Sharky’s feet, standing on his hind legs, spinning in the occasional excited circle. It’s fucking adorable, and Mattie says as much.

Sharky glances at her over his shoulder, grinning. “Thanks, chica. I do my best.”

His smile grows when she snorts and then starts to laugh.

“We’ll have to take Moose into Fall's End,” she says, watching Sharky bend down to put the bowl on the floor. “We can’t leave him here.”

“Whatever you say,” Sharky says. “You’re the boss.”

---

Being in Fall's End means talking to everyone in Fall's End, and that means chatting with Jerome about the people who need her help around the county. There are even more now than there were before, farmers and just regular citizens who have been holed up this whole time who suddenly need help or have information for her. Some of them are willing to exchange hard-earned supplies for her assistance, and she knows just by the serious expression on Jerome’s face that she can’t say no this time.

The two of them bend over a map of the valley together, tracing out routes with their fingers to see where she should go first and how many people she can help as fast as possible. Sharky leaves them to it as soon as he gets bored, taking Moose with him, and comes back a while later with beers to share and food for all of them.

“Mary May’s gonna watch the dog,” he says, settling sideways on one of the pews so he can stretch his leg out in front of him along the seat. “Didn’t figure it’d be all that useful against the peggies.”

“Thanks, Shark,” she says, smile warm. She turns back to Jerome in time to catch his own soft smile at the exchange. When he catches her eye, he looks down and twists the top off his own drink.

For a while, it’s quiet.

They decide to head up to the Lamb of God episcopal church first, following up on rumors that Grace Armstrong has holed up in it to protect some of the graves from the peggies. Jerome promises to send some resistance members to John’s, thanks Sharky for lunch, and then they go their separate ways.

Sharky keeps up a stream of empty chatter on their way to the other side of the valley, sharing meandering tales from his childhood that are designed to have her laughing as hard as possible. They park a safe distance from the church, around the curve and on the side of the road, but neither of them get out of the car right away.

Mattie has her sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows, the day unseasonably warm, and she stares down at the dark tally marks without speaking for a long moment. When she looks up, Sharky’s already staring at her face, his lips obviously pressed together to keep himself quiet.

“When we go in there, I don’t want you to worry about me. You need to watch out for yourself and stay out of harm’s way, okay? I’ll be fine no matter what -- you won’t.”

“Shor--”

“No.” She holds up one hand to cut off his protests before he can really get started on them, then lowers it and grabs his wrist. “You have to do this. Promise me. I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you.”

He’s frowning hard. “Well, how do you think I’m gonna feel if you die and then stay dead?”

She pushes away the voice inside her that says if only and squeezes his wrist. “I promise you that won’t happen, okay? You believed me last night, you can believe me now.”

She waits until he nods before she releases him and climbs out. Boomer hops out of the backseat and immediately pees on a nearby fence post before dashing off in the direction of the church. Sharky’s muttering something under his breath at a constant rate, but she ignores him because she can’t quite hear all his words -- if he wanted her to know, he’d be talking louder, she’s completely sure.

It only takes a minute of walking before they can hear gunshots, and the pair exchanges a glance before setting out at a jog down the road.

There’s a single peggie truck parked to block traffic, a handful of men ducked behind trees and stone walls closer to the church building, all their fire focused on either one of the headstones or on the church itself. A green laser sight flits over Sharky’s chest, then Mattie’s, then disappears and a woman’s voice comes over the radio. 

“ You the deputy Jerome was telling me about? I could use your help. ” A shot rings out then, and the nearest peggie drops dead. 

Sharky and Mattie exchange another look and split up, heading in opposite directions to keep themselves from being surrounded. It works for them, habits accidentally forged as they burned their way from the Henbane and back into the Valley, and the few peggies trying to get to Grace fall pretty fast without causing any more damage than they had before they were interrupted.

Once the yard falls quiet, Mattie climbs up and scoot-walks across the roof of the church to where Grace is sitting in the bell tower. She ignores Sharky’s laughter from below her, focused instead on getting to Grace and not fucking falling down because breaking her neck because she slipped would be the shittiest way she’s died yet. 

Grace watches her with a half-smile and soft eyes. “You got good timing,” she says, shifting back to make room as Mattie crawls wholly inside the tower and sits with her back against the wall as Grace explains what she’s doing.

The peggies are defiling the graves, specifically of the war heroes like Grace’s dad, in an attempt to demoralize them. It’s a pretty damn good attempt, based on how angry Grace is about it, but Mattie doesn’t know how to respond.

She already feels pretty damn demoralized, graves or no graves.

“I’m a good shot, but I need somebody to watch my back.” Grace cocks her head to the side, ear pointed toward the road. “They’ll be here any second.”

Well. It’s not like Mattie can say no to this.

She nods at Grace, crawl-walks back to the ladder, and slides down. Sharky’s there, a grin on his face, and she punches him in the chest hard enough to make him step back in mock agony.

They don’t have time to tease. Some peggie’s truck squeals to a stop, worn out fuckin’ pads announcing their presence to the people they’re trying to kill, and Mattie and Sharky split up again.

There are more peggies this time, absolutely pouring out of the woods and crawling up the hill. Mattie runs out of rifle ammo and ends up using it to smash one peggie in the head as he tries to light a stick of dynamite stuck in the crack of the crypt.

She lights the dynamite herself and tosses it back to the road. One of their trucks explodes in a deeply satisfying ball of fire that catches two of the closest peggies off guard and throws them to the ground.

Grace snipes them both.

The yard of the church is so chaotic that Mattie doesn’t realize she can’t hear Sharky’s taunting calls until after the last peggie falls to her feet with his blood under her nails.

Even though her blood is rushing in her ears, it’s too quiet. It’s too quiet and she can’t see that green hoodie or the bursts of fire from his flamethrower and she can’t hear his laughter or his comments about how her being spattered in peggie gore is (somehow) hot.

She can’t hear anything but Boomer’s sharp bark from the other side of the cemetery. One quick high-pitched call. Help.

She breaks into a run, hopping over bodies and toppled gravestones in her haste. Cold dread settles in her gut, growing with each footfall, until she knows what she’s going to see before she sees it.

Sharky, on the ground, half-hidden behind one of the larger crypts, slumped to the side. His lips are blue, his face pale, his hoodie soaked through with blood. It’s on the crypt behind him, like he’d been standing against it when he was shot, and when she reaches under his chin to check for a pulse, his eyes stare back at her, empty.

She screams.

Grace is at her side in an instant, checking for a pulse alongside Mattie’s bloody fingers, hissing curses under her breath when she can’t find one either. Mattie pushes the hoodie up over his chest, out of the way, and presses her palms flat against the bullet wounds like she can do anything now to stop the blood.

She told him.

She told him.

“I told him, I told him to be careful, and this is what happened! I should have made him stay behind, why wouldn’t he listen, why--”

“Hey, hey.” Grace’s hands find her face, fingers wrapping around her chin. “You can’t do this here. Help me get him to my truck.”

Mattie nods, blinks the tears from her eyes, and gets her shoulder under Sharky’s arm. Grace helps her lift him, and together they drag his body through the woods around to the back of the church where Grace’s pickup is waiting for them.

They lay him down in the back, and Mattie hesitates by the tailgate as Grace moves to climb in the driver’s seat.

The engine turns over and covers the sharp cry Mattie releases when a bullet hits her shoulder, but it doesn’t cover the sound the tail light makes when it shatters.

White lights surround her and she falls to the ground, vertigo making her retch. She wants to tell Grace to go, to take Sharky back to Fall’s End and leave her here to whatever punishment John has cooked up for her for taking his home and kidnapping his dog, but she can’t make her body obey her.

She loses consciousness just as one of John’s Chosen starts to haul her upright.

[hazkiwislutt]

{prologue: chasing love series}

{ hi friends, it’s athena and this is the prologue to a series i’m writing. basically, it has a famous female character who is younger than Harry, but it’s set a few years in the future, like... Harry is going to be 29 and the mc is going to be 21 when they first meet (pls don’t shoot me) so that it fits in with some of the plot. i hope you like it, because if i do it right, this story is supposed to pull on all sorts of heartstrings and throw a bunch of curveballs at you! }

She was only twenty-one when they’d first met, old enough so that he didn’t feel bad taking a liking to her, but young enough that people would talk and make him feel bad about taking a liking to her. He’d met her at a party that Niall had thrown, and he hadn’t wanted to go, but he was a people-pleaser, and so that’s where he’d found himself that one Saturday night after he’d gotten off the plane from Japan. He’d arrived, and Niall had instantly whisked him away to the kitchen because he was just “dying fo’ yeh t’meet someone tha’ yeh’d like.” 

Niall had nudged the kitchen door open, and to Harry’s surprise, she was standing over the sink, back facing toward him and Niall, chugging a bottle of Belvedere as if it were ice water at three in the morning on a Wednesday night after a really intense sleep. She finished it cleanly, not stopping even once as she demolished the bottle, and Harry grimaced, wondering how long it would be until the alcohol hit her like a freight train.

She was wearing a pair of CareBear pajama pants that flopped over her bare feat and a faded university sweatshirt that had an insane amount of holes littered across its expansion.  

“I asked you to bring something stronger, not someone. I’ve gotta be absolutely blackout drunk if I’m gonna get through tonight, Niall.” She hadn’t turned around, and the sound of her voice acknowledging their presences startled Harry. 

“Yeh not actually hung up on this bloke, are yeh? Yeh don’ need him!” Niall’s eyes widened and he lunged forward to seize her shoulders, spinning her to face him, to which she reacted with a bored shrug. 

As he gazed at her side profile, Harry realized he knew this girl. She was relatively new on the music scene, but one big hit a year ago skyrocketed her to fame. Harry could admit he’d watched her in multiple interviews (and was also able to admit that she seemed intelligent, funny, and terribly captivating) and listened to a few of her songs (which were all crafted beautifully, and he even kept two of them on his shower playlist). He’d learned she was studying at a university when she’d released her song, and that her favorite juice was cranberry, and that she loved reptiles more than animals with fur, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name.  

“I don’t know, Ni. It’s not like I want to be hung up on him, anyway, but the heart does weird shit. Anyways, what’s a girl gotta do to get some stronger liquor from her incredibly dashing Irish friend?” She put up her hands in a duo of finger guns, shaking them at Niall and grinning madly. Her smile was pretty, Harry decided. 

“Hate t’be tha’ guy, but yeh not gettin’ anything from me. Yeh had enough to knock yeh into next week. Enough of tha’ now, this is my mate.” Niall gestured to Harry, raising his eyebrow to prompt him to introduce himself. 

“M’Harry. S’nice to meet yeh.” He stepped out and outstretched his hand to shake hers, and nearly grunted in surprise as she grasped his and shook it tighter than he’d expected. 

“Y/N.” She returned simply, but warmly with a large smile. Harry didn’t miss the way she was staring at his eyes with an intensely measured gaze. He was impressed and a bit put off by her unabashed confidence in doing so, having always been the person that did the speculating when meeting someone new, and it was both interesting and refreshing to meet someone that delivered the same energy. 

“M’gonna go check on the other guests, but yeh better swear t’me tha’ yeh not gonna leave or do anythin’ stupid,” Niall scolded her with a stern eye, “an’ I mean really, Y/N. Seriously. Wanted Harry t’meet yeh ‘cause I remember yeh said yeh like him, an’ maybe it’d do yeh good t’make new friends.” He slipped out of the kitchen once more, leaving Harry alone with this new girl and her CareBear pajamas. 

“I’d say yeh’ve got a nice grip, but s’a hell of a lot more than tha’, innit? Felt like Donald Trump himself was trying t’rip my arm off.” Harry grinned as he heard her erupt in loud giggles as she hopped up onto the counter alongside the bottle that had long been empty, swinging her feet gently against the cabinets beneath her. He decided her laugh was pretty, too, and it was one of the nicest laughs he’d ever heard in his life, and that he’d love to make her laugh all the time if that was his reward.

“That was a good one,” she hummed thoughtfully, “Sorry, though, if I actually hurt your hand. I was thinking really hard, like, should I gently shake your hand or what? ‘Cause you seem like a firm grip with a gentle twist kind of guy, and my brain couldn’t decide, so I just squeezed.” 

“S’just a handshake, not a blood oath, love.” Harry smirked and she released another round of soft giggles before she quieted down completely. Before Harry could panic about an awkward lull in conversation and scramble for a topic of discussion, she reached out for his shoulder and grasped it.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but I’m about to be really fucking buzzed soon. I probably looked insane downing that entire bottle, so I’m apologizing now for the things I’ll inevitably do or say.” She shrugged at him sheepishly before pulling her hand away and returning her focus to her legs that were still swinging. She looked small, swaddled in her ratty sweatshirt and feet dangling so high off the ground from where she sat, and Harry was overcome and overwhelmed by a feeling of endearment as he stared at her. 

“S’alright, ‘ve been there quite a few times. F’yeh want, we could talk about it.” He genuinely meant it. There was never a time where Harry didn’t want to not help, but he especially wanted to help her get her mind off things with conversation, which seemed to be a better alternative than consuming anymore alcohol. She was young, younger than him certainly, but not childish, and he was consumed by an odd wave of protectiveness as he watched her. 

“Maybe later I’ll give you the whole run down.” She stopped, and a beat of silence passed before she continued, “I really like your music, by the way. I’ve been a fan since like... way before all this happened to me, and you helped me through a lot. I swear, I was like the biggest Directioner. I’ve still got your posters up in my room back home. Sorry if that’s weird to say, but I mean, it’s kinda cool to be sitting in front of you after staring at you on paper for so long. That sounds fuckin’ creepy, too. Christ, I’m sorry, I’m really not helping my case, am I?” 

Harry laughed as she talked, listening to her switch inflections at the beginning of nearly every sentence, as if she were talking to someone new every time. He was gratified and extremely moved by the reverential tone she used as she thanked him, never experiencing someone so in awe and grateful in his life for things he hadn’t directly done. 

“S’not creepy. I performed with Stevie Nicks, an’ I nearly pissed m’pants, so I get it. M’also a fan of yeh’re music, ‘ve even got two of yeh songs on m’shower playlist.” Harry watched as she blinked in surprise (very cutely, he might add) and bashfully smiled at her lap. 

“Thank you, really, that means a lot to me. It was all so surreal... You know, I was going to be a journalist before all of this happened. I was double-majoring, but I’d always wanted to do music. In college, I was in such a bad place, and then, I released the song, got snatched up by a producer, and now here I am, talking to Harry Styles.” She scooted higher up onto the counter and dropped her head back against the wall, closing her eyes, as if reliving everything she’d just divulged. 

“I know how tha’ feels, too. S’the craziest thing, waking up, an’ realizing yeh life will never be the same again.” Harry leaned against the side of the counter, finding himself sucked into a whirlwind of memories as he fondly remembered his rise to fame. It was silent, save for the obvious noises of the party floating through the rest of the house, but it was comfortable, as if they’d both understood they needed that moment. 

“Harry,” she’d said suddenly, sitting up quickly and fumbling to grab his shoulder, eyes a bit hazy and unfocused. He’d grasped her hand where it lay on him, and squeezed it reassuringly, giving her a small smile. 

“Want to hear about my troubles before I throw them up in this sink?” He laughed once more at her bluntness, and nodded encouragingly. 

“G’on then, love. Let’s hear it.” 

He’d barely finished his sentence before she was off and running, words slurred together and hand warm on his shoulder, telling the story of a “stupid boy with ratty hair, but damn it it was so nice to yank on”, who she’d had a fling with in her senior year of high school that moved away to “some random ass country, think it was fuckin’ Australia” and did a bunch of god-awful things that pulled her heartstrings all the wrong ways, and suddenly happened to swing back into her life, demanding that they pick up where they’d left off and talk about the semantics of their relationship, just as she’d finally “gotten my balls in order and wanted to move on, the asshole.” Tonight, he gave her the option of meeting him over dinner, or “’saying goodbye to us forever’, like, come on, who even says that?”. She’d declined, and this is where Harry had arrived to watch her resort to chugging Belvedere. 

By the time she’d finished, her voice was quiet and tinged with a bit of frustration. Harry was sure he’d felt these things before, and he dare he admit it, he probably inflicted these feelings before. 

“I’m so tired of being sad. It’s exhausting. I just want to be able to be happy, by myself again, so that maybe I can share that happiness with someone else in the future.” Her voice was low, and her eyes were drooping with the weight of her dilemma, and the burden of the alcohol that was no doubt running through her veins at this point. 

She looked exhausted, not in a bad way, but in a way that showed the internal battle she’d been fighting in her heart. Harry felt bad, even a bit sad, that someone like her should have to endure someone else’s faults. She was a beautiful girl, with wit that was more surprising than shocking, and an air around her that drew him in. 

“S’not worth it, yeh know,” Harry rushed the words out before he could stop them, “an’ he didn’t deserve to have someone like yeh care about him. Niall’s right, an’ I know I jus’ met yeh, but I think yeh’re just lovely, an’ things will work out for yeh eventually. Swear on it.”

She’d looked at him with large eyes that held a mixture of inebriation and sadness, but above all, gratitude as she soaked in his words. Harry opened his arms a bit, as if tentatively asking if she’d like to be enveloped in them, and Y/N didn’t need any other invitation. She scooted to the end of the counter and burrowed into Harry’s chest, legs on either side of his hips and arms wrapped around him tightly. Harry’s throat constricted weirdly as if her touch had awoken something within him (but for now, he'd simply say that he felt pity and understanding). 

“I’m just so tired of chasing love, you know?” Her voice was muffled from where her face was pressed against his chest. 

“Suppose tha’ this has got t’be the cheesiest thing ever, but maybe one day, it’ll be worth all of the chasing, right?” Harry fought the urge to stroke her hair down and caress the sides of her face as he breathed her in. The air suddenly felt thin and his heart began to beat wildly, the close proximity working against him, but if she’d noticed, she didn’t show it. 

“I hope you’re right.” 

[prettyflyforacyguy]

all

rlord christ uh okay

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

kitchen Table. ;3

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

good!!!!! it was early morning and aiden was off work so we decided to mess around and it was just v low stress and nice

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

hm uh. who;s that one tiger from zootopia? shit dice drew a commission of him a while back. the sexy one. he’d treat me right.

4: Something that never fails to make you horny:

there are like a million dumb fucking things aiden does that makes me lose my gdamn mind!!!!!! like, when he loosens his tie and gives me The Sex Look or kisses my neck in a certain spot... luv that husband

5: Where is one place you would never have sex:

somewhere kids could see :/

6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when ______________

one time admittedly when i was new to anal i had the inevitable ShitDick scenario bc i didn’t know how to prep myself properly........im so fucking sorry, trey, im so sorry

7: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:

this petsmart flyer came in the mail once. that was a weird jerkoff. made me realize im deep in petplay pff

8: What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]:

aiden;s been practicing shibari and it’s pretty fun! i’d say its my fav way to be restrained rn 

9: What is the fastest way to make you horny:

it aint hard idk

10: Top or bottom?

this bitch be bottomin, my ass is Ready

11: We were about to ____________ but then ______________ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in]

12: Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary?

it depends on how much stamina u have or if you’re in the mood for more? that time waiting for the refractory period tho suuuuuuuucks, im so jealous of dfab ppl that can come multiple times :/

13: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:

a valentine’s present for aiden, shhh

14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

sometimes aiden fuckign. does French Shit and i dont know what he’s saying until after but it’s kind of become a joke because we’ll be having a really nice moment and he’ll lean in and like, whisper some bullshit like “my little lima bean” or “my sweet polished fork” and i fuckignt rftg,,, IT STILL SOUNDS HOT, WHY IS HE LIKE THIS 

15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:

that “pop” noise when ur mouth comes off the dick. also, when he like, holds your head with his fingers tangled in your hair and bobs your head down on his cock g gg go gogfdoood thats so hot i love it when he does that to me its nice

16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:

welcome 2 Trauma Land next question

17: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

yeah. it’s a pretty slutty thing to do, it’s not great tasting if u don’t like, pineapple and shit but it’s a pretty good way to get your partner turned on more

18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:

if u and ur partner get tested together and r clean and not seeing anyone else

19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?

my sophomore year humanities teacher in my study abroad program....holy Fuck. hooooly fuck. mr. nakamura still gets me going to this day. he has a wife tho :(

20: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:

whipped creaaaam!

21: How big is too big:

some bad dragons are really intimidating. christ.

22: One sexual thing you would never do:

let ppl use me as an object again :/

23: Biggest turn on:

humiliation is pretty good

24: Three spots that drive you insane:

my neck

my back

my pussy, and my crack.

25: Worst possible time to get horny:

driving is pretty rough.

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:

ch r is  t  y es

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:

define “worst,” anon.

28: How much fapping is too much fapping:

who fucking calls it “fapping” still

29: Best sexual complement you ever got:

Yikes^TM

30: Bald, landing strip, Jumanji:

is this like, a lesbian thing? i dont get it

31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut:

YA GATTA NUT!

32: Fill in the blank: "If they ____________, we are fuckin"

IF THEY TRUCKIN WE ARE FUCKIN!

33: What your favorite part of your body:

my belly........? idk i used to Hate My Mcfuckin Self but aiden blows raspberries on me and its fkin cute holy hell

34: Favorite foreplay activities:

if i suck on aiden’s fingers he basically fucking Dies on the spot, so that’s fun to use. for myself, uhh. thigh kisses are hot. so hot.

35: Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math thats “greater than, less than, or equal to]

there was a a time when i wouldve said sex is bnetter but no, it’s Lov....i Love Husband

36: What do you wear to bed?

boxers, and my husband

37: When was the first time you masturbated:

probably when i was like nine or ten? in the “i dont know this is masturbating but it kinda feels nice” way

38: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?

there’s a lot floating around there but most of it is during The Bad Time

39: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?

uhhh shit its been a while i can’t really remember?

40: Have/would you ever have sex outside?

mhm. it’s not my fav tho

41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?

i;ve had more than a threesome, buddy

42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?

when i was young and desperate and trying anal for the first time i used a vibrating toothbrush but no one told me you’re supposed to not use the brush end. the bristles were rough. 

43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?

yes to both?? im a tiny troglodyte man what do u expect

44: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?

maybe? this is a very specific situation, i know aiden would rather die than do anything on a plane tho

45: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?

i feel it coming - daft punk

46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?

literally like anything can make me hard im fucking easy

47: Most attractive celebrity?

my husband....he’s a star, to Me...

48: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?

yes. source: am gay

49: If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now?

Unborn.

50: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

yes. i dont particularly like to think abt it but there’s a. big fan community wanting me to “come back” and it makes me super uncomfortable.

51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?

girls :/

52: Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?)

i have a couple on my thighs and my belly from some healthy weight gain, but aiden doesn’t mind. he likes em

53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)

dick....me Sucky Cock...nya

54: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?

i dont rlly care

55: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?

i was a few people’s first lay and it was uh. difficult. they think they can just pound a man’s ass like their fleshlight and it’s rough when you’re like, laying there and your ass is on fire while you remind them to use more lube and also fucking go slower to start

56: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?

sticky rice. good fucking lord, do not use sticky rice.

57: Is there anything you do on Tumblr that you would not like your significant other to see?

not really? we don’t hide things from each other

58: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

we own a Shit ton. i’ve had some since i was like, a teenager but i’ve been collectin some over the years

59: Would you give your significant other unrestricted access to your Tumblr for a day?

oh god no. aiden barely knows what memes are

60: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?

no, me and aiden have already discussed like, scar reduction shit. i have a few nasty keloids :/

61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?

neither?? i mean, i was both for a while but *SLAMS TRAUMA BUTTON*

62: Do you watch porn?

duh

63: How small is too small?

all dick is good dick!!!!

64: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?

continues to Slam the Trauma Button

65: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?

66: Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?

probably not because aiden’s in a group chat with his work buddies and they’re all middle aged or young mom nurses. im a fish out of water.

67: Do you feel comfortable going "commando"?

sure, as long as its not like skinny jeans or something

68: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn't shaved their pubic hair?

not rlly. good dick is good dick

69: If you could give yourself head, would you?

im p sure everyone tries but usually i get my husband to B)

70: Booty or Boobs?

ass. please god, i’m all about ass

71: If you had a penis, what would you name it?

Ass Blaster 69

72: Have you ever been on an official date?

yes? like a movie and restraunt thing?

73: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

not that i know of, but there was a point when i was pretty low in life that i hopped around w/ partners and one night stands.

74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?

the Pole Faller. i have no body strength and im named that bc i’d fall off the pole

75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)

no??????????? nO??

76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?

what...what kind of question even is this

77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina

“god i wanna put my mouth all over that”

78: If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do?

DOUBLE PENETRATION!!!!!! DOUBLE PENETRATION!!!!!

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

MAYA I TRUSTED YOU

WHAT WOULD WILL POWERS SAY

ok he'd probably be like ‘hehe; guess I'm falling further into obscurity thats cool i was never amazing in the first place’

-

“theres only one!”

...that is rare

-

“i traded my watch to my kooraheenese friend! it plays the steel samurai theme when it goes off!”

I SMELL A CHEKOVS GUN

-

“it sounds just like the steel samurai theme”

“no it doesn't!”

mayas right, it doesn't sound like the steel samurai's theme. 

it sounds BAD.

seriously i feel like my soul is physically rejecting it 

-

put your arms akimbo at me again young lady and ill push you into your magic soul pool.

-

“that whole séance thing makes trials completely different”

meh

speaking of trials, we’re back to trials! ya–– i dont want to deal with nahyuta

-

“you have to pitch your terrible crossover!! i won't let you down”

as much as i disapprove of the crossover let it be known that phoenix is a sweetie pie.

-

“The sacred murder dagger was used to murder someone?!?!??! BLASPHEMY!!!”

-

“The lowest level of hell; the Hell of Tickling” IM KINKSHAMING KOOORAHEENISM

-

“They shall not escape on their /redtext/ Freedom Express today!”

she did it yaaaaayy!

-

U R DIARHOEA!!! KOORAHEEN!!!

well i

i cant argue....

-

oh god no t voice acting again

-

LOL YOU CAN SKIP IT AHAHHAHHA

AND THE DANCE TOO HJDSJSFAKJ

guess its not *that* important eh

-

the entire court just called phoenix a shithead. 

i mean people say “Polkhunka” when theyre surprised, and the term is “polkhunan”. so yeah. either hellion, or shithead. nice.

-

phoenix: this makes no sense 

me: ooh i cant wait for the bullshit excuse!! 

-

Well ill be damned to tickle-hell. Rayfa’s a television aerial. 

-

oh i see how they did that. i guess spirit visions have steady-cam?

-

.........he ran right into it

dude why 

-

i just love this. “yes he ran directly at the killer, to fight them! with his arms flailing in terror!! it might look stupid and fake but actually it’s kooraheen’s biggest martial art, RonDeliteFu!”

-

every time Rayfa does her hand-flinging-out pose i mistake her sash for a stick and i keep thinking she’s a muppet 

-

“we can’t let the special fires go out, so we make sure to remove the glass around them every year on top of a window mountain so that a woman can um...... walk around it i guess.”

-

i hate to admit it but these stupid pond vision things are really stumping my blind ass

-

i stg pohlkunka is the stupidest sounding made-up expletive ive ever heard

id rather heard cowabunga every time something shocking happens for godssakes

-

“wow he really does care about ema”

hey show dont tell lol

“i cant believe he's come to understand their value”

uhhh well

they stated that they still hold investigations despite their magic pool parties, so uhhhhhhh yeah???? forensic investigators are usually pretty helpful??

-

since Sadmad’s catchphrase appears to be ‘putrid’, i keep reading ‘purification rite’ as ‘putrification rite’

-

i cant believe they did a “what if... (EXTREME CLOSE UP ZOOM) PLOT TWIST?!”

-

STOP SAYING PUTRID

-

oh hey its dirty hobo man! ...also i guess the ‘sexy pan up shot’ is for every new character :/

-

hobo rangers go...

-

...Nahyuta named him A’nohn Ihmus. A’nohn Ihmus.

Well that just cements my idea that Kooraheenians are just a bunch of Americans that stole a landmass and made up a phony baloney culture. 

It has been confirmed that they are legitimately just taking english words and ‘kooraheenifying’ them.

-

“i used my binoculars to spy on the rite at the inner sanctum”

A’nohn is just as perverted as his namesake from Tuhmbl’r

-

“Feh. I knew you were a fool...” 

Cue Franziska crashing her plane into the court room to yank on Sadmad’s braid to scold him for taking her word.

-

“shall be reborn as a witless sea urchin with barbs limited to your posterior”

ok well sadmad, sea urchins asses are next to their mouths... on the bottom of them. completely opposite to the, uh, you know. Spiky part.

So I’m not sure if that serves to strengthen your point or just make you look like a moron

i mean i guess it served to enhance sadmad’s point since phoenix’d be totally smooth and unprotected, but then he wouldn’t even reach adulthood so that sea otter wouldn’t come in too early and...

...he just said phoenix will be reborn as not only mentally slow but also physically deformed.

...uh... nice one, sadmad.

-

AND MAYA PULLED A REACHAROUND ON THE PRIEST 

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FROM THE HOLY MONK, GUYS

-

to be fair, she could have stabbed him with a reverse-grip or not; one doesn’t have to hold their hand at any particular to perform a reach around 

-

oh well at least the contradiction is incredibly obvious 

-

at least hobo ranger has an excuse to use words like “bucko”

-

i hate that,,,, theres a rule against climbing the mountains during the rite. that means that there have been perverts of yore who tried to spy on the lady changing 

-

hes gonna see her shad–– (sigh)

yknow, i dont think shadows are detailed enough to know which way someone is holding a knife.

also moonlight isn't that bright 

-

DWAAYYYYMMMN

sasquatch’d!!

-

ok so... does happiraki mean “hello” or “hooray!” because its been used it both contexts 

-

i just realized that the Plumed Punisher theme song sounds like one of those posts where someone takes a recognizable song and fucks with it in a silly way, like pitch shifting it at awkward moments or changing the key

-

i cannot believe i have to use a fucking walkthrough for this game. I'm disgusted with myself. I'm better than this.

-

“no one was allowed in there and the only way up were the stairs!”

ah yes, the unguarded stairs surrounded by people who had their heads down. in prayer.

totally impenetrable. 

-

“What?! This is insane!!” no no, phoenix, youre doing it wrong. you have to say “this”, then sadmad has to say “is” and then the judge has to yell “insaaaaane!!” because its funny when one person says one word of a sentence each!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

‘rah rah sis boom bah, fight, fight, phoenix wright!!”

um excuse me maya who gave you the right to be cute

-

why does sadmad only have one hand-guard-glove thingy

-

“my bag of bluffs” is an interesting and long way to say “ass”

-

they put... a maximum security prison... on top of their holy mountain. they put their criminals... on top of their. holy mountain.

they put a jail. in a church. in fact they put it higher up... closer to... god. 

what the fuck. the fourth one. only accessible by helicopter.

who was smoking what when they decided this???

-

(sigh) mmmmm id been waiting to use that patchwork quilt

-

“hell of hangnails”

not as fetishy but still pretty–– actually you know what that sounds kinda fucked up. isn't that just kinda G rated torture anyway 

-

wow that incredibly obvious lie deserves the terrible pursuit theme??

maybe its the last one (i hope)

-

“are you the rebel hunter!!??!?!?!??”

um well no, unless the rebel hunter is a criminal. jackass.

-

...cutting dirty deals with criminals, are we, sadmad?

-

“haha, the fact that the third person at the scene was a wanted criminal destroys your theory that it was the rebel hunter Keera that killed the high priest!!”

...wow... gosh i was wrong... and the fact that a wanted criminal was actually at the scene... doesn’t help me at all... because once i said that one person didi it, it couldn’t possibly be someone else... oh no... i guess it was Maya who did it... for reals... not the.... wanted criminal....

-

...hang on, his little power rangers dance was the defiant dragons dance? how... did nobody notice this?? sadmad really was colluding with criminals wasn’t he. gosh. what a trustworthy guy.

-

phoenix: oh no!! his testimony was a lie!!

oh no! the testimony that did nothing but damage your case was a lie!!! 

??????

-

sadmad: get him!

hobo ranger: (does a little hop and daintily scurries off)

sadmad: ... (takes a good five leisurely seconds to stop the background music) put everyone on high alert. i want everyone after that guy

that guy who just. skipped out of a courtroom. past hundreds of crazy people and several bailiffs. 

haha... the kooraheenes police. to quote phelous... THEY’RE THE BEST!

-

“what was the point of all that, anyway?”

search me, phoenix.

“well, i cant help but feel that entire episode was an enormous waste of time”

hey capcom? hanging a lampshade on it doesn’t make it better. it just amplifies how much it sucks.

-

“yes! i recognized that piece of paper because it looks exactly like the piece i have! thats covered in blood and unrecognizable!!!”

...nice

OH AND ITS THE PERFECT FIT TO COVER THE BLOODSTAIN WELL ISNT THAT JUST FUCKIN SERENDIPITOUS 

-

“the ignorant lawyer has not bothered to learn out language??”

well A) he's not an international attorney, B) he was on vacation, not studying abroad, and C) fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. you’re all speaking english all the time anyway, you bunch of fuckin phoneys 

-

i stg sadmad if you say putrid one more time i’ll cram a rotten egg down your pasty white gullet and show you the meaning of the word 

-

“the criminal could have only escaped if the high priest helped him out, so why would he kill him?”

hey sadmad? remember that thing about using your putrid brain? yeah, doesn’t take too big a leap to realize that you might’ve just proved phoenix’s ‘idiot theory’ right. maybe the priest um... was a rebel??? who was going to do just that??? and the rebel killer offed his sorry ass?

perhaps, o foolish prosecutor, you should think before you open your rancid lips... lo, in your ignorance, you will be cast down to the hell of those who are kind of stupid....... the hell of perpetual fart smell. there you shall inhale the decomposing winds of ten thousand and one accursed mihtama, while fart fetishists gaze on in envy... 

oh wow i didnt even need to go on that spiel, he just admitted it straight up. but yeah, apparently when Lady Kee’ra impersonator kills a rebel, it’s A-OK. But when Maya kills a rebel, well, fuck, she’s a foreign bitch, execute her!!

also the way he said it seems to imply that he knew all along so uh

maybe people should start suspecting this guy. he seems to... know a lot of rebel criminals.

-

every time sadmad shakes his head i wanna break his neck

man i remember being annoyed at edgeworth in the first game and wanting to hop my desk and rough him up, but never wanting to physically maim or kill him. you suck, sadmad. 

-

WE GOT IT, FOLKS!! WE GOT THE ASSAULT!! IT’S UM, IT’S SUPERNATURAL FORCE ASSAULT THIS TIME. 

FUCK BIRDS AND SWORDS, I GUESS? ACTUAL MAGIC IS THE WAY TO GO?

hey sadmad; tickling? bondage? can we... keep that out of the courtroom please?

also “oh no! i can’t point my finger!!” phoenix cries, forgetting that he has two arms. i guess capcom won’t spring for more than one sprite tho haha

-

“the keera we saw was the statue draped in the sacred robes!”

with a... knife sticking out, apparently. ok..?

also gosh, maya’s really fast, tiptoeing around the abbot, draping the costume just so, then tiptoeing back around? like lightning she is!!

-

he just cut off his own theme song.

-

“she used her fiendish tricks to fool the court room”

which didn’t work at all if you remember the beginning of this court so fuck you?

-

“she sought to use the divination seance to mislead us!”

good going, pointing out an absolutely massive flaw in your country’s legal system, sadmad.

-

i cant believe we had a flashback for absolutely no other reason than Sadmad to gloat. I FILE FOR A MISTRIAL ON GROUNDS OF MISUSE OF FLASHBACKS.

-

please oh god just let it end i dont have enough space in my stomach for any more ulcers

i can’t stand hearing him say let it go one more time please I'm begging you

-

oh no... phoenix has failed... he’s going to die... it’s really going to happen...

just get to the surprise witness or whatever already

-

oh thank god. love you, headband guy

-

“the dagger bears the finger prints of maya fey!”

wow. the police suck major ass at catching running people, but their finger print checking speed is second-to-none. ...either that or they waited a while before telling people about a dead body.......

-

oh gosh!!! its totally maya!!! she arrived 2 years ago and so did lady keera and 

yeah no. it’s not her. 

but even if it was, kinda awkward there, sadmad? she’s um. kind of a hero to you.

-

i dont get it why is everyone freaking out. i thought the keera impersonator was considered some kind of vigilante hero? why is it suddenly bad when they “find out” it’s maya? is it because she isn't kooraheenees?

I'm honestly really confused. everyone was rooting for the masked defender one moment, but now that its maya, it’s murder?? 

seriously what the fuck. like the gallery was legit going “ah!! lady keera has come back to save us from the rebels!”

and then its like “its not divine its some foreign bitch in a cloak” and now its like SERIAL KILLER. also, nice. we’ve never been allowed another day in court because there was a second charge racked up. awesome. (with the possible exception of Ron Delite, tho he was changing his charge)

-

sadmad can go choke on his own braid and the gallery can lick their own hypocritical asses. i can’t believe i stayed up till 2 am to finish this section.

[failinginvestigativejournalist]

Dont freak out, itss just writing

i grew up fast (so fast) (too quick nigga) (wish i went through when i was just a bit bigger) can you tell me who the parent is uh ya the first time i drove a whip i was a fuckin kid, (96 suburban nigga) (yo yo, did you tell em why) oh ya shit my fault my mom was bleeding from her chin i dont know what from or what about, scared to death i took that drive to the ER (Medical SHIIIT) (mom got too drunk again and feel out) (wheres dad? in his room his doors locked, figures i dont expect, as i try to knock (no answer nigga) i dont blame em he removes himself from the sitiation so he dont hit her) ya i fucking grew quick, ya i fucking tryed some shit, the first time i dropped out and took some shroomies i was age 6 plus 6, thats 12 for the illiterates, actually aas a matter a fact it was fuckin pleasant as fuck as i drew back the droe and took another hit. now that i think that was the day, older brother came and gave me cig i obliged no way to say nay, i was still trippin and it was a sensational feelin, it left me stumblin and dizzy a head rush like no other i was hooked for live to the day and i dont blame him, i dont think he knew what he had started, adding to the compilation of the monsxter inside that took refuge and started, poison in his mind, the drugs altered his brain activity but he was buckled up and commited to the ride.Shit i just said in third person let me apologize to yall sometimes the ideas flow together like two fortune five mergin, these feels of hate be strong ya im hurtin, i cant blame no one, i cant choose the family i was birthed in, started sniffin ups felt my blood surgin, gotta big head but my nemisis, the evil inside myself was bigger aboutt the size of a white sturgeon, like some northern ish that canadain shit like british columbia or somethin idk, alls i can say is that BC bud out that bitch is my fav to blow, the sour D, diesel to be exact for you niggas who waana try to nit pick or correct my personal facts, let me just speak at you,  all the hatin niggas tryin bring me down, bad news, i do drugs like steve from fuckin blues clues, but my rents always on time when that xshits due, any ways i side tracked speaking of tracks just lined some shit up did with speed did with need i did it with tact, im dextrous and shit i always have a unique train of thought oh shit trains again trains derailed at this point hhaaha i crack myself up sometimes with the wit in my words leh-let you in on the pun so you can join in my fun, about the lines the lines are no more you didn arrive in time i promise these raps have rhythm they have rhyme i aint spittin to waste your time, i aint spittin to catch a dime, bag or bitch, it really dont matter, niether last long but they are still my niche, come here bitch come hit this shit, this time dont have a fit, mind over matter just stick yuh nose in these rails sit down for a bit, drink some wata, go to your happy place we are gettin to old for me to have tote on yuh just from hitten lines but i put up wit it, you got that 50 thou boat on yuh, not to mention your ride, that shit is so sweet i cant decidddee which id rather seed, as in inseminate with my seaman as i play the part as a seaman workin for seimans on a marine voyage i aint like you im a higher being, i dont know whatchu talkin whatch your eyes be seein i am a divine heathan i really cant fucking believe a niggas still breathin im a florida boy born and raised, i sit the fuck back drink my beer in the shade, high as i usually am a rinny tin tin rinscotts tale \down the rintin like a shark fin poatched by commercial fisherman thrown in a bin, no regard for life the human race is so greedy, people just aint my type, say what you want i know me best and i know im right. my creative talents on the other hand be outta sight, im my own worst enemy to cross the bridge pay the fee, trollin in the hood for that g, withdrawin, shakin i drop to my knee look up to the sky ask god if he sees. hear the sound of humming, huh must be bees, or im trippin out maybe its a flash back i dont remmember. whats th-this street, tremblin think my heat skipped a bit, or a couple shakinso bad my knes begin to buckle, anxiety can be dibilatated held me back from so much in life thers no debating. unfamiliar route. made it to this bar ordered a stout got to thinking, you may ask what about, this is why i like solitude to be on my own to answer to noone to depend on myself and live it to the fullest while im yung, my mind will reel, replaying all i know every single memory, that im capable of bringing back, i compare my brain to a file cabinet, i keep it hidden like in an office towards the back. A photographic memory is a gift and a curse, ill tell you whatat, if you dont keep it in check you will end up in a herse, sure you can remember the happy shit the good things in your life but you cant fucking forget the huge hits the fucking bad bitch the one who broke your heart? dounno how to forget you but i think i know where to start, i thought it was drugs, i numbed my body with chemicals little did i know with every shot the metaphorical shovel scooped out some more dirt from the inconcievable whole i fuckin dug. my life has been weird kinda like an opriental from a flee market an awkward rug, with no real spot in the house, was always the black sheep in the fam i tryed to tip toe as quiet as a mouse, some tom and jerry shit my mistakes and regrets cbhasing me around like tom the cat from that shit, I hide in my hidey whole, disconeected from any social environmeent i often found myself cryin, but self loathin is kinda like being a a gay with some dicks hes blowin, givin a ski job pitty is the lube hatred is the tube the vessel to carry out a deed the fags not sure about, hes experimentin comparable to some situations in my life cept wont catch me with two dudes in a shower, that was just a metaphor. you feel me? im sure the haters will hop all over that verse but just fuckinh hear me. I got my shades on and these bitches special, haters they block, they keep you no fun, sticklers out of sight out of mind like spf 75 sun block, that industrial shit, factory born hear the lunch bell on the horn, an  hour passes the busy bees come back to the floor to join the others to join the masses; the hoard., here the hum of the worker bees at work as they sneek rum in there flasks stuck it in to the hive got it past the queen time to catch a buzz to make this pain stop while i avoid the fuzz the narks at work, cant control it even if they wanted to stop. i dont want to hurt. this was a metaphor for the endless rut of a reality ive become accustomed to; succomed too, the low of the low. comparable to a german trench on the frontlines., my life feels like a conveyer belt, makin the same product running the same direction never really goiong any where, now thats was an analagy, keeping up? yung unsensitive how many? 0 fucks, 0 fucks giveen, 0 blights forgiven, spiteful to death and mornful for noone, nothing left inside just another no-go, malfunctioning product family be like feeling “ i feel like they robbed us” of our brother our son and our friend , dont worry fam im still with you in your hearts up to the end. im tired of our society with all its malice and fallacy, thinking to my self how sad it must be, to be washed in the brain to be hypnotized, this shits so insane.you want that shit super sized? of course nigga watchu you sayin. A glutonous society obsessed with self indulgence people actually still believe good people are in abundance. Speaking of which, fuck the people for a tec, have you looked around lately, this earth is a wreck, mark my words we headin straight for destruction, We are not being good care takers, we fuckckin actin so careless what doesdo the opeople in power really expect?? just pass it on to the next generation “ohh, its not our life time we will leave it for you” Thats a big fuck you to the generations after you undeserving self entitled fucks finallyy croak. get the fuck outa here, tell me when you sold your sold, you heartlesxs bastards would give anything for xsome more of that paper thgat rules all, the pressure you have put on everyone, no one is an exception, to support ourselves and loved ones to provide for our own and multiple other peoples nees, the urge to make money looms over our heads like a pestiliant storm cloud of angst and uncertainty, boreing a fucking whole in our moral, making peoplpe desperaate rising crime rates because people get desperate, people need to survive and they will do dam near whatever it takess to make the money they need, for whatever purpose.  ill whipe my ass with it throw in your cards i will win you better fold. i have freeedom, you ask what? anominity you fuckers, i can moldd my own life i have the freedomm of choosing, i certainly dont have to wait for legislation to pass a bill which you bribed for votes to do so anyways, to do something something much worse than im capabloe of ever doing, intentionally ruining the environment and turning our planet to mars just for paper with and idea (with a “hey, take our word for it, its worth something “””WE PROMISE”””” fucks) behind it not even gold bars, fuck you niggas mark my words illl bring all you mother fuckers down, ill run you fucks out of town, you hear that sound? its a train. its my passion and my determination to take you out, maybe ill use a fuckin plane? i mean its o.k. for the CIA to do it, right? Create this ridiculously elaborote ruse this plot, thyat fucking fooled all the ignorant and brainwashed americans you have already sucked in with your cancerous propaganda, kids lost to your bullshit through social media and the fucking criteria you make teachers teach young minds, we are taught from a very young age that “ huraaahh america is number one! Terrorists bad! Environmental destruction of a planet good!” how about we help some of the third woorld countries (which you know we wouldnt have to be gunning down women and children in the streets) we could just like give them the water they need? help them gentrify there communities teach them how to develop better skills, teach them more efficient ways to take advantage of their land, maybe bring some seeds to food sources that can be grown creating a bit of self sustainability that may not be indigenous but would grow in their country?? you greedy fucks just want oil, when we have enough in our reserves in alaska/canada to last north america 500 years falsey blame others, create an imaginary war “the war on terrorism, which infact is a fucking cover a false entity, to entice patriotism to loosely keep this crumbling empire together the last attempt, the only thread left in the button holding up the pants we call america, you forgot to tell the word all that shit is just whack  [ simply a meticulously pplanned and executed ploy to spur interests in the middle east, control the oil and power will return back east, return to u, Cause god knows you tax the fuck out of us for EVERYTHING especially mnother fucking gas, so we can pay for wellfare and pay for fucking solar power for rich fucks who e==inherited wealth, people who hdont know what working a day means and never will be, never had a problem, never been broke “oh shit my fucking croket set is missingg a ball” lose the pretense fuckers, you cocksuckers, arrogant low lives.. Money makes you any better then the hard working man that cover your tax breaks pay like our fucking ppolice forces (who are a bunch of ROTC drop outs with a badge and sense of power nnow being unfair and crooked taking some kind of revenge on the idea of the kids who picked on them all through out school” Motherfucker its harder to become a plumber, the learning and process is longer/more rigorous then a 6 month police academy which is fucking my lil pony world ( ith ink there is a fantasy kids show for my lil pony with their own fantasy dimension/world)compared to a military bootcamp.  A doctrine instilled to stop the spread of communisim wherever and whenever it may presenet itsxelf? when is the fighting going to stop in that area of our dying earth, thjey have been fighting eachother since lifes initial birth, what whoever was in power or in charge of trading the petroleumn to us wanted to charge an extra dollar 4 dollars  aBARREL instead of 3??? whaa you fucking greedy cunts,? so we invade and take control put there people on dog collars?? for wshat a dollar difference in productionfreedom of speech as you mothers suck the livlyhood from our home like a blood sucking leech, so careless, you know exactly what your doing, you just dont care it aint your problem your headin towardcs the end your death is brewin, well im the reaper of death cloaked in black i always get my man like a cold inwe can hardly co-exist and efficiently function. We are on world one love bob marley shit im getting tired of going throught the motions im all fucked up inside and shit. Early development can be a lynch pin. to either set a strong first corner stone, ceremonial placement of the first corner stone, free mason shit, corn and vegetable oil, so many customs and traditions are goin down a fuckin hill catch em rollin. Early  life is so fucking critical for a young kid, childrens minds are like a sponge they are looking up to their elders they are developing mentally they consume everything around them and retain more than you know, give your kids a healthy and stimulating environment and they will let there talents grow let there talents show let there brilliance flow let there inhibitions go, gone like dust in the wind, never catch em in trouble nothing, not one sin. They will begin to get older, be super organized, super focused for school, every class haxs a folder. As you watch them grow you will feel it in your heart you will fuckin kno, atleast you did this at least you used your parental guidance for good. when you die you know youll be missed, your kid dont throw fits, not one bit, hes such a chip off the old block that was cliche as fuck haha tuck em inh for bed his forhead you kiss. I just might fucking shed a tear, I cant fight this urge to drink a beer. I cant deny this fucking fear, I must look like just like headlights shinin onm a deer, jock strap aroun d my ankles, dumbfounded, look in  my eyes, perplexed, look on my face as it hits, you get a certain taste in your mouth this race is coming to a close suddenly your filled with doubht, seriously you should be care free, yuou did your duty as a parent, im jealous wish that was me, chill the fuck out go drink some fucking relaxing tea or something, sobrietyy seems to be a good mixture along with love and rationality to make a family function like a well greased machine, like a mechanisim freshly whipped down with some white lithium grease. tuned and ready to go, temped to huff the fumes and left everything go, turn your car on shut the garage door, let death grip  you, dont seem to care anymore, I cant change the past and i have no regreats, will i make it to thirty? “right over here people!” “place your bets!”, ill take my tickets to my Life Show and just scalp em make some extra cash, im already absent, so detatched;incapable of feeling. even if im there aint nothing going on emotionally in there (guarantee you im smilin an nodding i really dont give 2 fucks no more”, take that money right to the plug i promote fucking drugs not hugs, or why not both? why does the saying have to be one or the other when sxometimes its both you desire the most. Take the scalpin’ money from the tickets to the play of my life, go on down to the hood, pick up some bags mis amigos habla “Drogas” los hermanos tambien, this urge is hard to fight. Its a romance [a ritual of being, so0mething un explainable i wish i was never a part of, im always metaphorically bleeding. My poker face is strong, fuck showing weakness i alwayxs thought it was to show emotuion. wrong....... but its not, it can save your life, can \get you through, throw you a life jacket, get you out of that tide you fought, that frigid water no warmer than dry eyes.. Ive always been a loose cannon, I go with the flow, not lookin back, been chillin with the old heads they were suprisxed i could hang and, back to the point haha literally or figuratively is the question... im not gonna keep you waitin or leave yall hangin, i hate cliff hangers, make me wait 45 five minutes leave me jonesin’ its slow goin like grindin that ‘crete in the hangers polishin’ that baby out and coatin with some apoxy, its a process, i just get my drugs, whate=vers around and hit bangersz til i pass out, thatsx how my life has been goingg, i feel like im in the chambers just waiting to be gassed out. Flip the fuuckin switch you fuckin pussy end all this malcontent and hate, make itt black, eternal reest at loast.. dress me up real nice maybe a sharp vest, go through the processions and go through the motions fucking burn my body bitches, i want to be in the ocean ive always felt drawn to it, like an unexplainable,, unatainable unfakeable feeling or notion. im happiest sippin a coctail right by the ocean,  thats where you put me to rest... ill be pissed as fuck dont treat me like a fucking ruck; i beenn aroound, age is but a number, my knowledge is  vast and profound, ya thats right bitch im fuckin educated, know more tthan you will learn in your life time and im 20 years, old get what im sayin? i dont got a big heaad im actually humble,  just at my  breaking point. if i was a volcanoe you would feel the rumble; the pre-emptive signs of an eruption pre-determineed in the creator’s mind he took his divine time to find a wayy to grin away the time it took to find the book i bind when al i want is to be stress free and unwind but im the opposite wound up liike the grandfather clock i wish i could stop , the wheels are in motion the gears are set to full speed the feels keep comin i got this itch; this notion, this inkling to stop minglin, stop wastin my time with u useless fuccks. i think its time, its not the end my journey, just started this epic tale of sorrow, my feelings have departed, im fuckingg frozen over colder than ice, dry ice. cant touch me im full of hate and vice, addictive personality on a suicide mission like a ffucking missionary willing to die for his faithh,. i wish man willing to be a martyr for his religion.. ya bitch i smoke stoges in the hotel room just send the  bill to him if it comes to me itll end up in the fucking rubbish bin with a looggie on top coughin up brown shit to young for that talk, to young for heart disease pack and a half a day to try to keep my miind at ease, the stress is buildin im like a tickin time bomb, im so wound up like a clock rigged to blow mount vesuvius, a test nuke... the alarm is soundinn off. A  bright flash like a million lightning strikes, bout to pop off.. but atleast with style got my limited eddition nikes, listen to me i soound like them, listen to me bitching like a fucking fem, bottle it up, thats what society saays, male suicide is at an all time high like two polar opposites due to wed, its never gonna work im always going to be sad im always going to hurt, no fuck it, im a lock it up and throw away the key, im gonna forget about all this shit and be a fuckin G, be hardcore like the brothhers, leave bitches cryin in the street like aall our fuckin mothers, 32 degrees ferenhiet tatted on my left pec it signifies the tempture of my heart no longer warm and red, its frozen over, it hardly beats, that shit is smaler than the grinches, i turned into what they want me to be, a danger to society, getthe fuck outa myface before i shoo,t b, I got nothing to lose, living for nothing, nada, goose eggs nigga dont give a fuck reckless, no regard for life i dont give two fucks a partridge in a ghetto street, aint no merry christmas song, i like my biches thick and dirty wearin'n some fesh tomy thongs, i use em abuse and enthuse them then ruse thm excusse them fuckin confusethem "why you so distaant all of the suden" keep the vow of silence, like a monk on a holy missio, a friar on a divine quest, sending telepathic messages look into my eyes and see, get the fuck out i was never real these feelings meant nothing to me manipulator, manipulationist making up woprds never been a relationist, the masster of his craft a ventrilliquist or a puppet master you were to blind to see, mama was right just a socio path, ya bitch tell your 7 year old child that; see how long his chipper attitude lasts, im lower than nothing, not even a worm maybe i could bbe a fucking tick suckin blood, noting left of the kid i used to be, no more self worth, i cant love you when i cant love myself, how you expect me to support you when all i do is grab a spoon andd melt all the money thaat comes my way, a junkie, bum destined for an early  death and you think yous my bride to be, sorry hun you reaad me wrong, i know its hard cause bitches never know whats goin on inside my head, as i lay in bea,d staring off to somewhere, anywhere but next toyou, staring off into space thinking about my drug abuse, asking myself why, but i know the answer ready to die, but i think ill get a lapper frm one more danceer, i wanna go out in style, not som lame shit maybe go up to a mountain and stand on a cliff, look down, see wher im destined to end up as i take the safety off, finger carressing the trigger, a cool wind blows as i prepare to leave my loved ones bitter, surprised they sstayed aound thislong only ever let em down ever since i was young, never good enough always disappointing this rap comes so easily writing it like noothing, to get this off my chest as theend comes near, i shaped my own destiny i chose to die, now i chose to die here, fuk your beliefs and your faith in gods plan i took my life intomy own fucking hands, i think we all know einstiens theory of insanity, i been doin the same shit fr so long now exspectin shit to change and, i guess im insane.. i took my brilliiant, my sharp mind and put it to waste. its time to pull the inevitable, the good die young idk in this case if thats viable, im scummy i did whatever it took to get my fix to kill that pitt  in my tummy. i hurt people close, i stole from my famil.y.. its time to end it, like i caqme into the world, by myself always alone, soemthing that my father toldme that really stuck, its cynical as fuck, but he was right. he said stay out of the bullshit the groggy muck. Only lookout for yourself son, ive been arounnd awhile, [people dont give a fuck about anyone else they care only for themselves, in the end at the most critical time they will always choose them instead of some one else. We are alone in this wrld and its the hard truth jut learn not to ddepend on others while you are still in your youth, ive been fucked over to many times by people i thought i was very close to. now im out to get mines me and only me you and only you, get that fucking look on ur face sorry for beeing real and telling the truth, im trying to prepare your for whats ahead, im tryig to prevent you from depending on a brutus who will fill you with lead, stab you in the back for their own personnal gain, being to trustworthy is a heroic flaw like being egotistical, wanting to help your friends to much, being aragont ect. kryptonite to super man pease dont be batman and let it be yourr bane, bane as in the villian to let you know. im back, here are my words again not my dads, ji really do miss all the relationships i had, havent spoken to my dad in years tookk one for theteam stayed with mama dukese inj the ssplit to save faace, foir my innocent younger brothers. you know what shes also my motheer, shes not capable of surviving alone i didnt think i would abandon her ever i thought id never do that, i stuck with her out of evveryone, a family oof six she looked out for me in times of strife wish i could give her one last kiss, just shot my last 20 and i fucin missed, absesses dont matte any more i bet this 45 shoots true time for the finale,  no way i can miss, as the curtains close on my young life one last thought people really took to me, like white on rice, women were drawn to me the mystery i had them enticced, June baby as a cancer i am hard to understand i met a chick once who had a spot in my liifes bnd, she knew me we had a connection so much love we were never disrespectin im glad i could atleast i could teach hersome shit before she ripped my beeating heart out of my chest and stepped on it. Loved hermore than life and i still do i promised her one day i would find her and marry her, walkher down that isle say the words ido, she felt what i felt i know its tru, wasnt ready fgor commitment baby i wil alwayslove yo never orget you if i can i connect with you, like a disease i infected you i aways broght you downi was just baggage extra wait holing you down dragging around im glad youo saw through my snake charming ways saw me for who i was a bumm who couldnt change noot in a short number of days, someone so crippled by pain and grief it was beyond belief, she was the only one i wore my heart on my sleeve for , she lef me sobbinig, crrying violently without end in the door the doorway to more pain. i know she had no choice she had to live her lifee i was just in he way, i was obscuring her focus. eye on the prize isthe only way to achieve your goals and tnt them fuckin boulders, in your way, today i die babe, long time comin bet yall thought i was here to stay. baby l dontshed a tear kno i died drinkin a beer haha but nah you were my last thoughts thinking about all the time we spent getting lost in eachothers eyes and gettin so close we read eachothers thougts, illl miss or idk if ill be concious or just nothjingness, i guess ill fnd out when i finally stop being a pussy and proced with this, see ya velma ill always be your shaggy thinka bout me and dont forget what i made you see, in your self im just another memory on our shelf but let it bbe one thaat sticks we had somethingthat made ssense just clicks somethin that felt so right im really gonn miss, everythinig abnout you im sorry you couldnt trust me but i dont doubt why. i know the truth ive never denied a thing in my life, dont getme wrong everybody tells a little white lie, but you know what its a sign of intelligence not to be afraid to say idk not to lie for the hll of it. Ill see you soon in the nxt life or two i hope reincarnatiuon has a possibility of being true, godbye cruel world th ride is over it was a hell of a whirl, i leave you with absolutely nohing conntributted i was just a part o the cancer people had to live with, butnever acknowledgedd, acted ignoant to ther surroundings as daddy paid for college, i burned bright and hot and had a lot of fun, i had alot of life experienc got alot of shit done, nothing productivee of course in ssocieties eyes but i did fullfill atleast some personal goals, important things in my eyes, the curtains are almost done descending as my pittiful life is ending, but keep your pitty mother  fuckers i dont want shit from any of you i dont give yoou nothin dont be so self righteous you look like a bunch of fools, greive for me or celebrate my life i guess its on you how you chhoose to rfemmeber a nobody that nobody knew, a couple feet before the curtains drop, is that? myy eyes decieving? me? no i do see that a single rose descends from the skies, i stare intently at the work of art, a rose is soo beautiful, a representation of love, from the heart, so delicate with its velvet petals, easily ruined a boket wouldve been nice, but who am i fooling, thats a beautiful thing, that was really nice. the product bubbles as i take my last hit of ice, cant takemy eyes off that rose.. its so beautiful... the gun on my forhead now, looking at each individual pedals.. dew from the early mornin forming a small puddle around that naturral phenom, that iconic organic, spectaacular symbol of sometthing real, somethin that matters, something sensual. 

As the bits of his brain splatter behid him, arms spread; with grace, almost angelic.he falls off the ciff a hundred feet now for falling, weird but there was a look of peace in his eyes; on his face, maybe he wll finally find happiness.. he fell with nobility and so much grace the floor he hit, his finall restingplace, what cuold be a better box then a natural setting, a  beaauty of nature, crawling all around and he will return to the earth, the mother wll  take him back just as she gave birth, i thinnk this shit is over now its not my story to tell, inside voices kids no reason to yell. shhhhhhhhhhh. 

dont depend dont believe the [enter here]