#i think he deserves everythin and nothing simultaneously

[leopold7fold]

fuck i started looking for mutuals but forgot to include my intense love for shane from stardew valley

[littlemisslipbalm]

“You Get Me” Pt. 3 (famous!y/n x harry)

Aka “Kissy” 🥺

honestly its really just domestic harry bahaha and I added that they have a slight age gap ?but seriously I hope y’all enjoy the third and final installment of my first ever writings -  a little miniseries if you will. I loved writing this part sm, probably my favorite part yet. I linked a spotify playlist that was some inspo (I literally listened to your summer dream on repeat for one part that I wrote, that song is so beautiful) anyways - not really proofread and I tried to break it up more so it was less big chunks to read formatting wise

here’s part 3! read: part 1 | part 2

word count: 4.0k  | warnings: makeout sesh, shirtless harry!, nothing graphic tho (I think!)

tag list : @marauderswhisperer, @morgannope, @daddystevee, @kthemarsian, @bi-andready-tocry

playlist for the inspo✨

-

One Week Later

“Hey, Har...change of plans!” you exclaimed as you peaked through a door in Harry’s house.

You’d hung out together at your apartment once since your phone retrieval visit and the two of you had been texting constantly. You loved Harry’s company and Harry couldn’t get enough of you. Harry had called you late last night, ‘Want t’take you out tomorrow, love.’ his voice was groggy as if he was about to fall asleep. You’d instantly agreed and drove over to his house the next day. He was leaving back to London on Saturday, so it was your last day to see him for awhile.

Inside the door you had just opened, a beautiful vintage convertible sat. You had found the garage. “You are so driving this,” you turned to see the man who held your entire heart in his hands walking up beside you. Harry reluctantly agreed and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Ready?” he questioned, holding up the soft blanket he had retrieved for your coastal picnic. You nodded, proudly displaying the little picnic basket you had packed full with food. Simultaneously the two of you reach for each other’s free hands, clasping them together and walking out to the car.

“I’m on aux, you can focus on the road,” you told Harry when both of you went for the cassette device that functioned to allow you to play music from your phone despite the age of the car. Harry loved how assertive you were even if it meant he didn’t always get his way. That was one of the reasons he liked you so much, your strength, your ability to hold your own in any situation, even with him, opposite of how a lot of people treated him in the industry in bids to get in his good graces. You were his match, so similar, yet so unique.  

The pair of you started out on the road. Harry wore a white t-shirt with a blue bee slogan,  purple trousers, and some clean white vans. His rings and pearl necklace wrapped up the look. His tattooed arms starkly contrasting the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes on the road were covered by large sunglasses, but his hair flew out behind him as the wind rushed over the car. You had chosen high waisted mom jean style denim shorts and a lavender femme top with a mesh white floral overlay, it had ties on the shoulders and it complimented your skin color perfect, tanned in from your life in the golden state. You too had your rings on and a silver necklace with your first initial hidden in the pendant. Even your clothes complemented each other.  

The first song to play through the speakers was Joni Mitchell’s “California.” You looked over to see Harry smile and you two began to sing along. You didn’t talk much on the ride, staying silent other than singing along when you pleased, but you always made sure not to overpower the actual song, you didn’t like to do that if the music was there for ambiance. Harry would speak up a little when passing various things, just simply pointing them out. Then, after the first notes of “California Dreamin’” came on Harry couldn’t help buy say, “Y/N, seriously?  S’not like I don’t love these songs, but please tell me you didn’t just search up ‘California’ and are playing tha’?” All you did was shush him and tell him this was one of your favorite songs before singing along.

Then, as the Mamas and the Papas voices began to fade out, Harry started again, “This next song’s title better not be fuckin’ California or somethin’ with-” but he stopped as the light quick notes of “Golden” came through the speakers, followed by his own voice. You grinned and gave his shoulder a little push. You had just gotten on the PCH and you remembered his mention of it being the quintessential coastal drive song a couple years ago so you had queued just in time.

A grin spreads onto his features that had been in slight exasperation at your antics previously and shakes his head at you, does a little finger shake vaguely in your direction, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

You both burst out in song, practically yelling the first chorus, Harry taking little harmony parts that most wouldn’t even notice, but he notices them, he made them. You dance in your seat to the song, taking control of the background ‘da da da’s. Harry is in awe of how well your voice sounds with the track, when you sing along to the second verse, much more seriously than the first one you had screamed together. He glanced over at your moving figure that began to sway at the slowing of the song. You weren’t wearing sun glasses and you had your eyes closed, basking in the shining sun. You looked at peace, yet completely fulfilled and overjoyed. In that moment, Harry knew he wanted to keep making you feel the way you did right now every time you were together. The song ended and your playlist continued, random songs regarding California and the feeling you get with someone you care about - makes you feel sunkissed.

-

“You’re literally so corny,” Harry laughs to you when ‘California Girls’ by the Beach Boys came on. You throw side eyes at him, “What can I say, Brian Wilson knew, California girls are where it’s at,” you roll your lips into your mouth and then bite your bottom lip.

-

The drive continued with you giving a rousing rendition of ‘California Gurls’ with Harry as Katy Perry and you as Snoop Dogg as you had insisted. Harry even busted out some minimal dance moves while driving the car, honking the horn at the appropriate moment. You made Harry feel like he was 19 again.

Then, straight into ‘Canyon Moon,’ Harry really was in disbelief of the woman next to him. You got so into the “I’m goin’ home” part of the song. Harry said, “Really like tha’ one, I gather,” after it finished. It was your turn to look at him in disbelief, “It’s my favorite, Har, I remember listening to Fine Line the first time and loving it immediately. Still loved it even after everyone else barely talked about it. Deserved so much more, s’amazing.” You finished with a half smile slipping onto your face. Harry gave a quiet ‘thanks’ and returned the smile.

-

Harry was finally satisfied with where you had landed along the coast. There had been no set destination, just a plan to drive to a lookout for the picnic. Finding a small parking area, you two gathered your items and set out for the perfect spot. The California coast really is beautiful. You’d lived there your whole life, just further up north, moving down to Los Angeles when you started your music career. You ran ahead of Harry to seek out a little bluff you’d seen in the distance. “Oi!” Harry called, but didn’t run to catch up, he had taken the picnic basket and it had drinks that wouldn’t be great if they were all shaken up.

You were right, it was the perfect spot, a little ways up from the set path there was a flat surface on the edge of a cliff, it was safe, with wildflowers and tall grass around a more bare area. You layed out the large blanket, then stood and watched as Harry made his way to you. His hair was every which way due to the wind whipping through it during the car ride, you subconsciously ran your hands through your hair for that reason. He looks gorgeous, you thought.

When he arrived at your little patch, he sat down the basket and you threw your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself into him and basked in his glow, his warmth and scent. He held you and ran a hand through your hair. The pair of you could have silly fun, but you could also be extremely intimate. In these quiet moments you wished you could stop time and live here forever. To live in his arms would be a wonderful thing. “So happy right now, darling,” Harry whispered, the soft swish of grass and the distant crash of waves the only sounds he had to speak above. You said nothing, but pushed yourself even further into his body, a response in and of itself. In this moment, there was no one else, just you, Harry, and the beautiful nature you stood in. This moment was everything. And you didn’t want to set it free.

Eventually, the two of you parted and relaxed into the blanket. For once, neither of you played music, you talked and ate and listened to the ambient sounds of nature. The melodic waves carried the conversation, when neither of you felt the need to say words. After eating, you let Harry pop the bottle of champagne he had brought along, unbeknownst to you, nevertheless when you saw it you wanted to be the one to uncork it. Still, your protests fell on deaf ears. “Y’seem to be getting very used to getting everythin’ you want, huh? Already a spoiled princess after a couple months of fame,” Harry teased as he worked to open the bottle. You huffed at his teasing and your failed attempt to get the bottle from him, which had caused him to move off the blanket and have his shirt be stretched from you grabbing at the bottle and only getting fabric.

“Whatever, don’t act like you’re not a total diva sometimes, Styles.” You couldn’t deny that him calling you a ‘spoiled princess’ made you feel things, unholy things. Of course you found Harry unbelievably attractive, but this was your fourth time being with Harry and the two of you hadn’t done anything besides heavy makeout sessions. You loved the way he said your name, but you also loved his nicknames for you, but this was a new one that seemed to hold some meaning within it.

Harry liked to see you all worked up, but knew he could get the exact same way, upset when things don’t turn out the way you want them. Frustrating. Finally, he popped the cork and you both cheered for the golden bubbly liquid. You had spent almost about an hour on the road and an hour or two already on the cliff, so the sun was starting to make its farewells to this side of the earth. The sky was beginning to light up with pinks, oranges, and lavenders. You both sat back down on the blanket, this time with you sat up inside of Harry’s spread legs, reclining back onto his chest.

You continued to talk, about the view before you for a little, but then each other. Whenever you were together, the two of you gravitated to the topic of enjoying the other so much. Today was apparently Harry’s turn to share. “When we were in tha car, earlier,” he started as you twiddled your fingers on his thigh, drawing shapes. You looked up into his eyes to encourage him to continue. “Haven’t had tha’ much fun in awhile. You…” he hesitated again and averted his eyes from your stare. You whispered a little ‘yeah’. You really cared about Harry feeling comfortable with you and making him happy, so you knew encouragement was helpful when he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Y’make me feel young...tha’ sounds so dumb, but y’really do,” he finally got out as put his hand over your moving one on his thigh. The two of you didn’t talk about the fact that Harry was a bit older than you. He was famous when you were a puberty-stricken teenager. The age gap wasn’t really an issue, you were both adults, but his statement reminded you that he would be 30 soon and you were still in your early 20s.

You twisted around to sit on your knees and face Harry. You placed both of your hands on his face, cradling his jaw and cheeks on each side of his face. This forced him to look you right in the eyes. You appreciated the beauty of his piercing green eyes for a moment and then went to kiss his crows feet on the sides of his eyes, his forehead lines, his hairline, his five o’clock shadow, and his smile lines, that had cropped up as he giggled at you. You were making exaggerated kiss noises as you loved on his face. “First of all, you are young,” you finally said in audible words. You waited a beat, then you kissed his soft lips that were smiling up at you. He was still smiling when you kissed him so your lips hit a bit of a tooth and you both giggled. But, you stood strong, not pulling away to laugh. Harry kissed you back. He shifted and brought his hands up from the ground where they had been holding him up to cradle your body instead. The kiss stayed chaste, despite Harry’s protests when you pulled back.

“And second, you make me feel alive.” “Alive…” Harry echoed you slowly, “Tha’s a better way to put it. I am young,” He smirked and then winked at you. You moved your hands to sit on his upper chest and could feel his heart beating soft, but strong beneath his skin. You grabbed his arm and moved it from around you. Harry quirked a brow at you. Then you placed his hand above your left breast and below your collarbone. Now he could feel your heartbeat, too. Yours, you thought, was beating a bit faster than his, but you didn’t care. Touching like this, made you feel close to him. Like you could see inside each other.  

-

You finished off the bottle of champagne because Harry had to stop drinking to be able to drive the two of you home safely. You felt very warm from it, despite the sun setting a while ago and your bare arms and legs. Luckily, besides the slight buzz you had, it was summer in California, and the nights stayed relatively warm. You skipped to the car and bent over the convertible to put the picnic basket in the backseat. Harry was right behind you and gave your bum a light pat, you pulled yourself up and flipped around, giggling. You tugged Harry in by his shirt and demanded, “Kissy.” Harry snorted and obliged, but with an open mouthed kiss where his tongue basically slobbered over your lips, mouth, and a bit of your nose. You whined, “You’re fucking disgusting, Har.” “Ya’ love it,” he responded with a faux posh voice before giving you a quick peck to your lips and rounded the car, telling you to get in and buckle up.

The whole ride home, Harry had his hand on your thigh. With it there, you occupied yourself with twisting his rings and and dancing your hand around his fingertips. The champagne had made you quiet, but smiley. The music you played was softer on the ride back home, you knew Harry needed to focus with the dark road and you didn’t want the music to distract him.

One song that was of note was “Lavendar (Take 4)” by the Beach Boys. The recording is somewhat unpleasant, but the song is beautiful. It had reminded you of the clothes you and Harry had worn on your date, the wildflowers that had just surrounded you, and the color of the sky when the sun had set on the scene of you and Harry tenderly kissing each other. The Beach Boys are known for their California, Surf pop sounds, but this sound is soft and filled with lushious harmonies, an ode to lavender, maybe a girl named lavender, but nonetheless it was for lavender. Harry harmonized along with their voices, returning to his original state. It ended and went straight into Simon & Garfunkel’s “America.” Paul Simon’s voice passed through the speakers and whispered to us sweetly. Harry again hummed in appreciation for the song choice.

-

When you arrived at the house, you helped Harry clean up the dishes and trash in the picnic basket. Then you sat on the couch, it was around ten o’clock and Harry had offered to make a pot of tea. You looked over the back of the couch as he moved around his kitchen. He padded around, putting the kettle on, opening cupboards for mugs and tea choices. When the water was ready, he got the tea ready, choosing a loose-leaf blend he’d found at a fancy restaurant in Amsterdam. “No cream tonight,” you called, still watching him work his way around his home.

Admiration shown in your eyes as he nodded and finished up the tea, bringing it over to you at the couch. He chose your mug tonight. Different from the previous two, his and yours were a matching set with dark blue interiors with tiny cartoon sailboats. You loved his collection of fun mugs, it fit him so well. After handing it to you, he snuggled in beside you and you took a sip, then rested your head on top of his strong shoulder. You turned your head to give a light kiss to his shoulder, and then moved back to staring ahead of you.  

“Wanna stay?” Harry asked, his arm around your body, holding you close to him. “Can just drive ‘ome in the mornin’,” he continued. “That’d be really nice,” you sighed. This was so comfortable, how was in possible to be like this with someone you’d known for a little over a week? It didn’t matter to either of you how quick it had happened. But it happened, and it felt right, so you went with it. This, what you and Harry had, made you happy so there couldn’t really be anything wrong with that.

-

You two chatted a bit more - about your week of tour preparations, Harry’s flight time tomorrow, various random thoughts, - and you drank your tea. At about midnight, Harry suggested that you and he get ready for bed and then watch something on his laptop. You agreed and ventured into an unknown part of his home. You’d started to snoop earlier today when you had found the garage, but had only gotten that far because you got distracted by Harry’s car.

His house was beautiful and perfectly him. It was big, but his decor and things made it specifically Harry, even if he didn’t live here full time anymore. You reached the master bedroom, located in the back of his house, with french doors, identical to those in the sitting room, opening out to the grass in his backyard. His bed. His bed. It was a California King with tasteful bedding and a beautiful wooden headboard and frame.

You ran and jumped onto it, the bed sinking beneath you and the bedding fluffing around you. You snuggled and rolled around in the sheets, “This is so much nicer than my bed in the apartment, it’s only a full…” you trailed off. Harry leaned against the doorway of the room, smiling to himself as he watched you make yourself at home among this life. “You’ll be gettin’ a new place, soon, I reckon?” Harry asked and went to grab you both some clothes to sleep in from his closet. “Yeah, maybe!” you called out to him in the little room connected to the master that housed his clothes.

When Harry returned, he was only in boxers, but was holding two large t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and another pair of boxers. “D’ya mind if I sleep like this? I can put more clothes on if that makes you more comfortable?”

You couldn’t keep your jaw from dropping. You’d seen Harry shirtless before, everyone had, but to see him right in front of you, that was something else.

He noticed you staring at his body and smirked, but then threw a shirt and the pair of boxers your way, “Stop bein’ such a perv, love,” he teased. “Rude,” you muttered, “Was simply admiring...but if you don’t want me to look, you can sleep fully clothed,” you scratched your nose and then shrugged your shoulders.

As you worked to slide off the big bed, Harry crossed the room and trapped you on the edge, leaning over you with both his hands landing on either side of you on the bed. You scrunch your eyes and nose up as he tries to make eye contact with you. He goes to kiss you, but you turn your head and your cheek receives a kiss. He stays against your cheek, drags out your name and groans, “s’teasin’ you.” “I know, baby,” you respond and kiss his cheek now. You duck under his arm and run into his en suite bathroom, shutting the door to change. When you re-emerge, Harry’s in the bed, with the sheets pulled back, and his computer in his lap.

Harry calls out to you without looking up from his screen, “S’was thinkin’, y’know, since you’re always saying your apartment is tiny, y’could house sit ‘ere while I’m away?” You tilt you head as you approach the bed as you ponder the idea. “I mean, I guess ‘why not’? It would be a longer commute into the studio, but this place is gorgeous, and I’m gonna start traveling a lot anyway so I won’t need my apartment for much longer…” You continue to think on it as you climb back onto Harry’s bed and snuggle yourself into his body. Harry looks slightly down at you by his side, he’s put on his glasses, “Think you should, I’d also like knowin’ someone was ‘ere, keepin’ things running while I’m away.”

You nodded and move slightly to rest your head on Harry’s naked chest. His sunkissed tattooed body is mesmerizing, you reach your hand up and start tracing the various designs and running your hand along his collarbones and veins as well. Then you flattened a palm and smoothed it over his right pectoral. Harry hummed and pushed himself further down the bed. “Can we not watch anything actually, m’kinda tired,” you whisper up to Harry, your voice the only sound in the house besides the light clicking of a clock in a different room. Harry responds by closing the laptop and readjusting your position in the bed. You and Harry are a tangle of legs and bodies pressed against one another. Everything is calm and Harry says one word, “Kissy.” And you smile and let yourself pull slightly away from Harry to lean up and kiss him one more time before the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s soft and chaste, completely closed mouths, but you linger in the kiss, feeling his warm nose brushing besides yours. A hand moves up to his hair and gives it one good run through and then you pull away, “Kissy,” you finalize. The two of you giggle and snuggle even further together.

Your bodies fit so well together and again you were struck with the feeling that you never wanted this to end, even if tomorrow he was flying away, to somewhere halfway across the world. The distance didn’t matter. You knew the two of you had what it took to be there for each other, even if you couldn’t touch or feel the other. Even if laughter over the phone had to suffice for awhile. What the two of you had was greater than all of those obstacles of space and proximity. It was powerful because you were both powerful. Powerful in the way you loved, in the way you worked, in the way you simply were. You fell asleep in Harry’s arms that night filled with contentment. Harry fell asleep with you in his arms that night filled with joy that he’d found someone to share everything with. Someone who was willing to give him all of themselves. Someone who was finally able to get all of him.

-

love y’all sm 🤍🤍 hope you enjoyed and have a nice day

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache Day 2: Past and Present

Dark remembers a time when the concept of him falling in love was impossible. But the past is not what the future is, and it requires a little support to help him see that.

TW: Implied conflicted internal homophobia (but it’s a happy ending!)

Word Count: 1,425

--

“Reality”

--

They say the truest form of loneliness is when you are in company. Damien would hasten to agree. Ever since he became Mayor, he felt isolated from everyone, and yet he was surrounded by more people than ever before. It was a bizarre reality he found himself in.

If he were to be honest with himself, it only became more apparent once he began attending formal functions as the City Mayor. The invitations always read “Mayor Brooks plus one”, yet he nearly always went alone. He was a very busy man, Damien would tell himself. He didn’t have time for love. While he would engage in polite conversation and socialise, Damien would find himself watching couples mingle or dancing on the floor. Ultimately, it would remind him of the cold reality that he refused to acknowledge - no woman really took his attention.

When he watched couples dance on the floor, it was the male partner that drew his eye. That neat, well-fitted look of a man in a suit was something a part of him longed to draw close to. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he could never trick his foolish brain to do what a normal man ought to and view the woman in the same light. Of course he could see their beauty, of course he would compliment how fair and pretty they looked with utter sincerity; but it was impossible to imagine himself in a happy relationship with any lady he met.

Damien would never be able to love someone as he wanted to. That was his reality. The parties reminded him of this time and time again. They were far more sophisticated than the soirees Mark would host - Damien would often compare the formal events to games of chess. One wrong move and it would all be over in a flash. When conversing with other guests in groups, he would learn of rumours and stories of others in this ring of society that he was still adjusting to. A man was caught cheating on his wife, but instead of a mistress, it was another man. Two men living together for years were considered “a bit funny”, but no one could say for sure if it was true or not. Constant little reminders that if Damien was caught with another man, he would be publicly disgraced (without bearing to think of how it would affect his personal life). He had fought hard to get to his position and stay there by 27. As much as he wanted to be in a loving relationship, it just wasn’t worth the risk of losing absolutely everything.

He would insist he was too busy for love, that he “wasn’t looking”, or any excuse for someone not to try and find him a partner. He had so much love in his heart, but he loathed that part of himself. Why couldn’t he be like a normal man? Why couldn’t he have had his heart stolen by a charming young lady? Why did he have to be broken?

Even now, he was broken.

Physically broken. Emotionally broken. Not quite mentally broken, but certainly cracked.

It was the reality Dark lived in.

And yet… There was Wilford.

Wilford. That mysterious, wonderful man that was nothing like the soldier he used to be and simultaneously the exact same The man who could find the strangest ways to bring a smile to his face. It was so long ago now, Dark couldn’t remember if he had romantic feelings for William when he was Damien; but it was a fact he couldn’t ignore every time he looked at Wilford.

Speaking of, the reporter was staring at him rather intently.

“Somethin’s troublin’ ya.” Three simple words, and Wilford hit the nail on the head. Dark’s gaze shifted to the side, before he let out a slow sigh.

“Will… Do you this is all… Strange?” It was difficult to explain it. Frustration was clear on the entity’s scarred face.

“Everythin’s strange, sugar. That’s th’ beauty of life! A bitta madness goes a-”

“No, no. I mean us.”

“Us?” Wilford sounded hurt at that, and Dark internally scolded himself for being so inarticulate. He would only make matters worse if he kept dancing around the topic that had been troubling him all day.

“No, that’s not - Let me start over. I… Will, do you not find it a little strange that we - two beings who identify as male - are in a romantic relationship?” He lifted his hand to interrupt Wilford’s likely counter. His nerves began to fail, and he had to drop his eyes to the ground so he could attempt to continue. “It goes beyond what is considered the norm, and has so many… Risks.”  It was strange. No matter how many times he had made this argument to himself, Dark couldn’t find the words to express his internal conflict. However, Wilford’s worry shifted to calm understanding as he pieced together what was going on in the other’s mind.

“You question why our relationship goes beyond the norms others have set?” Wilford asked for clarification. His voice lacked the normal drawl. Dark nodded. “Despite not raising an objection to this when I asked you out on our first date, you feel a little uncomfortable?” He waited for a response, and a long moment passed before Dark nodded. Shame radiated through the gentle glow of red and blue. The reporter reached out and put his hand on Dark’s shoulder. When there was no attempt to brush it off, he knew he was safe to continue.

“Dark… Do you love me?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“And I love you too. That’s all that matters.”

Dark finally braved looking up at Wilford, and at last he could see what was going on. Black was peppering that pink moustache. Those eyes held more resolve than ever before. His posture was slightly straighter than usual. It was as if the Colonel sensed the Mayor’s distress and was trying to reach out in his own way. As though acknowledging this, Wilford smiled.

“Love is love. It doesn’t matter what gender the other sees themselves as. It doesn’t matter what the world says. If you’re in a position where you can love, then love. You might have been taught that love can only be in a certain way, but things are different now. You and I… We’re just as valid as Mark and Amy, and no one can change that. You deserve love. Our friends supported both of us through this. I spent weeks trying to woo you. I’m not letting you slip away because of the fear of what others might think of you. Sometimes… A little risk reaps all the rewards you’ve ever wanted.”

Dark didn’t object when the larger man pulled him close for a tight hug. After all the thoughts of uncertainty and the memories associated with them, he felt grounded. He felt safe. And if a tear or two slipped down grey skin, neither would comment on it.

“I love you, Will,” he murmured against the other’s shirt.

“I love ya too, Dark.”

It was several minutes before either pulled back, though Dark didn’t leave the other’s hold. Wilford was back to normal. Black strands had faded into pink. Chocolate eyes gazed down with pure affection. The past had quietly slipped away to let the present shine bright, as was the right thing.

“You always know the wisest thing to say.”

“Ya think? ‘Cause Bim insists I’m a ‘feather-brained oaf’ after th’ time I cut all power ta th’ buildin’ when I tried ta connect my phone ta YouTube.”

Dark kept close to Wilford, listening to him ramble on about some scenario that belonged in a cartoon. In a romantic sense, his life in the 1920s was bleak. But that didn’t mean his life in the modern day had to be. If ever Dark was invited to an event, he always had Wilford as his ‘plus one’. Dark’s name was already tarnished by a shell of a man who stole his body. What more could he lose if people thought ill of him for loving a man? But even if only a handful of people knew of this relationship, they all supported him. Had he really been so worried that he never considered that?

Purple eyes lifted to meet chocolate ones. A smile was returned with just as much love. No matter what, he would have Wilford by his side.

This was his reality.

For the first time, he was content with it.

[darthkylorevan]

Clydeland 90: remember when we were little

“building bridges”-rated t, 1.7k, read on ao3 here!

(please note that this is a sort of sequel to sstensland’s clydeland ficlet here, please read that to get a sense of what’s going on; it isn’t a complete sequel bc i change some small things but otherwise it is)

“Remember when we were little?”

The words were accidental; Stensland hadn’t meant to let them out, still laying in Clyde’s bed (he tried not to think of how it had been their bed, before) not ready to leave just yet, even though he should, even though he should have a whole life ahead of him, one that didn’t include Clyde. Yet here he was.

“Hm?” Clyde shifted next to him, just slightly closer. Stens tried not to pay attention to the points of contact between them, to the heat from skin on skin.

“When we were little.” He turned on his side, against his better judgment, to look at the man next to him. He only just managed to not reach over, to run his hands along his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. He shouldn’t want that, couldn’t want that. This was...this wasn’t supposed to have happened in the first place, but it had, and he couldn’t take it back.

Clyde smiled at him softly, softer than he deserved. “We did a lot of things when we were little.”

A wry smile. Stensland couldn’t deny the truth, however. They’d known each other since elementary school, silent Clyde protecting him from the older kids that wanted to pick on him for his looks, his accent. They’d been inseparable since. The best of friends to high school sweethearts; no one would have ever guessed they would end up like this, just short of divorce.

And here he was, back in Clyde’s bed again, unable to resist him like he always had been.

“When we’d go to the bridge.”

Stensland felt a hand brush along his side, fingers tracing the line of his waist down to his hips. He tried--and failed--to hold in a shiver at the touch, at the gentle way Clyde looked at him, like he used to when they were in high school, in college, before this mess, before he ran. He’d believed he’d never see that look again and yet…

Clyde grinned at him, that large, lazy grin that always had his heart beating a little faster. “When I’d drag you out of school with me to go there, you mean.”

“Does it really count as dragging when I went willingly?”

Stensland tried to look put out when Clyde only laughed at him, but he knew the truth, which was that he wasn't entirely willing to leave the school on their nearly monthly trips to the New River Gorge Bridge. They didn’t always skip school to go, but it was often enough he’d always been sure the administration had noticed their simultaneous absence, sure their parents knew. Nobody had ever said anything, though; had just let them be.

He let Clyde pull him closer, cheek pressed against his shoulder, a hand still running along his side. Stens almost hated how much he missed this, missed him. He shouldn’t want to stay in the bed forever, comfortably nestled at Clyde’s side; he had a life out there, away from him, away from West Virginia. And Clyde...well, Clyde deserved better than him, better than the pathetic person he’d become even when he had left to become a better person. Instead, he’d quickly fallen right back into the comfort of Clyde’s arms, unable to resist him, even after all these years away.

“What made you think of the bridge?” Stens loved his low voice, the way he said each word carefully, his easy accent. He’d always envied him that southern accent, the soft lilt easy to the ears, perfectly encapsulating the southern ideal of hospitality and sweetened iced tea. His own accent was awkward and misplaced comparatively.

“Just...this. When we went there, it was just us. Us versus the world.” His words were soft as a finger trailed circular shapes into Clyde’s collarbone, not daring to look up at him, not knowing--or more accurately not wanting to face--what he would find there. “We were so far up from the river, it was like we were invincible. Nothing could ever touch us. It felt like it was just us, forever. That was what this felt like. It was...you were….everything.”

He wanted to bury himself into the bed and not come out. This wasn’t...none of this was how anything was supposed to go, and here he was, digging a deeper hole for himself the moment he’d started talking again.

“Stens…”

“But then we had to walk back home, Clyde, face the world again. It’s...we can’t do this. I...had, no, I have something beyond here.”

“Beyond us.” It wasn’t a question; Stensland nearly flinched at the implications.

“I...no...yes. But, Clyde, it...it was never about you. Not like that. I didn’t…” He turned then, not able to face him, not able to take in the comfort being freely offered. Instead he faced the walls, still that horrible yellow he’d always complained about. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave here, leave your home, just to follow my stupid dreams, it would be unf--”

Stensland’s words were cut off with a squeak as Clyde was suddenly looming over him, knees bracketing his hips as he had, perhaps by a sort of instinct, moved so his back was on the mattress once more. There was now nowhere he could look without feeling like he was losing; his gaze anywhere would be obvious. Resigned to his fate, he looked up into Clyde’s eyes, feeling that pang of hurt and regret with the expression he found there, with how his gaze bored into him.

“Clyde,” he whispered, feeling like he couldn’t--he shouldn’t-- raise his voice above it in that moment, like if he did, he would ruin everything; it would fracture around him.

“Stens, you…,” Clyde sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When they opened again, Stensland was struck again by the emotions he saw there, coupled with the hurt evident by the draw of his brow, the downturn of his mouth. He felt the urge to kiss that look off his face, as he had so many times in the past. But he couldn’t--that wasn’t his job anymore, hadn’t been for a long time.

“You thought...you really thought I wouldn’t drop everything for you?”

“Clyde, I--”

“No, Stens, just let...let me talk.”

He only nodded, his heart now racing.

“After all this time, after everythin’ I’ve fucking done for you. I know we had to move to Boone to take care of Momma and it was backtracking from what we wanted, having to live in this trailer but I...it was going to get better, I swear. I told you, I had plans, and we were gonna get out of here, you could be wherever you wanted.”

Clyde was shuddering now, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes. Stensland wanted to reach up, wipe them away, but really, he didn’t deserve that, did he?

“Dammit, Stens. Everything I’ve done is for you. This may have been my house, where I lived, but you, Stens, you were my home. I didn’t want to be anywhere but with you. Fuck, I’d live in a cardboard box in the city if it meant I was with you.”

Tears were falling now, rolling down his cheeks just slightly before falling off down onto Stensland. He could see the effort Clyde was making to keep himself up, his arm trembling with it. Reaching up, he wiped away a tear beginning to form before pushing at his left shoulder. He got the hint and carefully sunk back down on the bed next to Stens, curling against his side, his arm finding its way under his neck again so his hand could rest against Sten’s arm, thumb rubbing circles into it.

“I want to be selfish again, Stens. I want to demand you take me back, fuck your divorce, fuck whoever made you want it, want to keep you here with me again, or keep you wherever, it doesn’t have to be here, as long as I have you.”

“Clyde…” He rolled over so they were once again facing each other, not able to take this without looking at him, but also just that bit of scared to do so, still scared of what he’d see in Clyde’s expression, not wanting to face the hurt that had been there since he’d shown up in town three days ago.

“But I can’t. I still fucking can’t, not if it risks your happiness. Fuck, I just want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” Stensland rushed out, before Clyde could take over again. “That’s why...I thought you were happier here, would be happier here than in any city. You’re a country boy, Clyde, and I love that about you, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t think you’d like living in the city.”

“ You make me happy. I don’t fucking care where it is, Stens, I just...I just want to be with you. If I can’t..If I don’t make you happy anymore, though, I’ll just...I’ll just deal with it. But I couldn’t just let you go, Stens, not without...not without talking to you. I know we weren’t good at that before, and that’s probably my fault I just...I wanted everything to be okay and I was bullheaded and didn’t see that you weren’t happy and it’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

“No Clyde, I’m sorry. I should have...I should have said something, anything. I just...I got trapped and scared and I didn’t think anything through. Clyde, fuck, I’m sorry. I know it’s ten years too late, but I’m sorry.”

Stensland leaned forward then, pressing his lips to Clyde’s, trying not to get lost in them, knowing it was probably a lost cause. He whispered soft “I’m sorry”s between kisses, savoring the warmth he felt from it, from this.

Clyde finally pulled back, a crooked grin across his reddened lips. “Well, ain’t we two idiots?”

He barely contained his snort. “Just a bit, maybe.”

“We still...I know we still got a lotta talkin’ to do, but...do you want to go for a drive?”

“A drive?” Stensland looked up at him, confused, Clyde’s wide grin only fueling that confusion.

“Yes,” Clyde answered, pressing another kiss to Stensland’s lips, leaving him wanting more, again, wanting to follow him as he drew back. “A drive. I think a certain bridge would be nice to visit.”

[astro-b-o-y-d]

The Director of Project Freelancer is Dead: Part 33 (Finale)

[Read on Ao3]

Author’s Notes: <3 (Check Ao3 for entire notes)

Header by texelations

Dallas continued walking again, until he reached the shoreline of the lake. In the distance, he could see Carolina's silhouette on a platform at the water's edge, with Epsilon's hologram beside her shoulder. 

Dallas couldn't help but smile at the sight. The two of them were so close now, that one could mistake them for siblings if they didn't know any better. The thought both warmed and broke his heart simultaneously. Epsilon was so good to Carolina; so protective whenever someone or something posed a threat to her well-being, but still giving her enough space to make her own decisions.

Epsilon was definitely a far better Leonard Church than he'd ever been.

"Hey, asshole, are you going to spend all day staring at us or are you going to say something?"

Dallas stumbled back in surprise at the sight of Epsilon appearing right before his face.

Epsilon cackled. "Okay, okay, I still hate your guts, but even I have to admit that watching you jump like that is fucking hilarious."

"I'm just glad to see the two of you are alright," Dallas said.

"Oh, don't even try to have a moment with me," Epsilon said. "But if you want to talk to her, just go do it already because you staring at us is starting to weird me out."

"You're not goin' to chew me out for that?" Dallas asked.

"Look, you took a fucking bullet to the shoulder," Epsilon said. "As much as I kind of hoped for something like that to happen, the execution wasn't as enjoyable as I'd thought it'd be. Carolina was really worried about you."

"She was?" Dallas asked.

"Yeah, she was. I don't get why, but she was," Epsilon said. "I'm not even sure if she knows why. But in any case, I couldn't enjoy the sight of Caboose piggybacking your unconscious ass to the infirmary because I was too busy worrying about her."

"He did what now?" Dallas asked. "That doesn't seem like the best method when it comes to transportin' patients."

"Never said it was," Epsilon said, his blue hologram flickering green for a moment. "Aw, shit. Okay, look, I have to go on standby mode for a bit. If you're going to talk to her, go do it now before I'm finished with this decryption process."

"Thank you, Epsilon," Dallas said.

"Don't thank me," Epsilon said. "That talk better include a billion 'I'm sorry's and a novel's worth of 'I suck the world's biggest dick and I'm not worth more than the dirt under your feet, oh-great-and-perfect Carolina' or I'm coming after you. And I'm not even taking the fact that you are the world's biggest dick into consideration because imagining you sucking yourself is something I REALLY don't want to think about."

"Likewise," Dallas said. "But I will see what I can do."

Epsilon's hologram fizzled out of sight, leaving Dallas to turn his attention back to Carolina. Had she really been that worried about him? Had he been the reason for her presence at the infirmary? Tucker had said that it was never too late to talk to her. Dr. Grey had even suggested that maybe Carolina missed having her father in her life. And now even Epsilon was telling him that she had been worried about him.

Could it really be true? Did he want it to be true? He knew for a fact that her concern was the last thing he deserved, and the fact that she had actually been worried about his state of being was honestly troubling. She didn't deserve to waste her valuable time worrying about him.

"You'd better stop before you walk right into the lake."

Dallas had been too distracted by his own thoughts to pay attention to where his feet were leading him, and it was only when he heard the sound of Carolina's voice beside him that he realized he now stood beside her on the platform by the lake's edge. A little too close to the lake's edge, for he was a few steps away from stepping right into the radioactive waters.

"I apologize, my mind was...elsewhere," he said, taking a step back.

"You sure it's safe for you to be out here without armor?" Carolina asked. "I mean, this place is crawling with radiation."

"Well, several reliable sources have assured me that the specific type of radiation in the area is only toxic when absorbed through the skin, and is perfectly safe to enhale," he explained slowly, as he stared at the water. "Besides, it takes years for radiation poisonin' to take effect so even if I were to come in contact with any of it, I would not die right away."

"Well, good," she said. "From what I hear, there's a lot of people who would be pretty upset if you went and died on them after everything that's happened."

Dallas nodded. "Yes, I see the irony in the idea of radiation poisonin' accomplishin' what a bullet to the shoulder could not."

Carolina fell silent again, as her gaze traveled back out towards the lake. "So, uh, I talked to those lieutenants of yours while they were waiting for you."

"Michaels and Sinclair?" Dallas said.

"Yeah, them," Carolina said. "They're nice kids, though I think Sinclair kept trying to flirt with me. I don't mind, but she sounds like she's, what, ten years younger than I am?"

"Yeah, she does that," Dallas said with slight amusement. "Durin' our preparation for the original mission, she flirted with Tucker on multiple occasions."

Carolina looked at him. "I'm not sure if I should be offended at being placed on the same level of attraction as Tucker, or to be flattered. Or, you know, protect her from him."

"Way ahead of you," Dallas said. "Tucker is my friend, but I do admit that the way he treats women is...less than desirable."

"Once when he tried to flirt with me, he called himself 'Dr. Cloitus, MMD,'" Carolina pointed out. "And the MMD doesn't stand for what you think it does."

Dallas shook his head in an exasperated fashion. "Well, he has a long way to go. But he is attemptin' to be a bit more respectful."

"I was impressed with that plan of his, though," Carolina said. "Everyone here owes their lives to the Reds and Blues."

Dallas nodded. "Despite what one might think, they're amazin' soldiers. In their own special ways, they can accomplish so much."

"Can I ask you something, Dallas?"

Dallas looked at her. "Yes, of course. You can ask me anythin'."

Carolina hesitated for a moment. "When was the last time you thought about...Allison?"

Dallas felt his heart lurch at the mention of her name. "...Well, I'll admit it wasn't all that long ago. And she has crossed my mind from time to time..."

"But when was the last time your thoughts were completely centered on her?" Carolina asked.

"I..."

He paused to think. When was the last time his thoughts had been nothing but Allison? When was the last time he had only cared about bringing her back and nothing else? Had it been that day, after Carolina forced him away from the room while the sounds of her mother's voice grew fainter and fainter behind them? Had there been a point during his time in the canyon when his thoughts stopped being solely focused on her and the Reds and Blues slowly began to fill in the spaces in his mind that she once occupied.

"I couldn't give you a definite answer as to when my thoughts were strictly focused on her," he admitted. "But the last time I can clearly remember was that day in the facility."

"I see..." Carolina said softly.

"I had a dream about that day while I was unconscious," Dallas continued. "I could remember how obsessed I was, how strongly I believed that I was so close to bringin' her back. I thought if I could try just one more time..."

He shook his head. "But it wouldn't have mattered if I tried one more time or a thousand more times. It would have never been her, not really. And even if my some miracle it was her, she would have been disgusted with everythin' I did to bring her back. I would be disgusted if I were in her place."

He turned his attention to the lake. "I was a fool. A damn fool too caught up in my own selfish desires to revive someone who was never coming back. I know now that no matter what I did, no matter how many times I tried, it would never be her. So many soldiers lost their lives because of the things I did, and others are still sufferin' from the wounds my actions gave them. I've done more damage than I could ever hope to repair in my lifetime. I doubt I could accomplish such a task in ten of my lifetimes."

"You, Epsilon, Washington... Everyone at Project Freelancer. You all deserved better," he said, his voice low. "More than better, you deserved a proper leader, not one who would endanger your lives just to further my own agenda. You were all incredible soldiers, and I held you back."

His gaze dropped to his hands. "If it hadn't been for you, I would have died a depressed, broken man with that burnin' obsession still controllin' me. But I'm here now. I'm still alive. And I realize now that...I don't want to die. At least, not yet. I want to continue to help the people I've grown acquainted with over the past few months. I want to help put a stop to this war."

He looked towards her again. "I understand that this won't come close to fixin' the damage I've done, but I am sorry, Carolina. I am so sorry for everything I did. And while I'd understand if you can't accept my apology, I want you to know that I...well, I'm glad you spared my life that day in the facility. I know it was probably a difficult choice to make on your end, and I'm still not sure if I deserved it, but I'm glad I could be here today to do what I should have been doin' in the first place. I'm glad I can be here to help people. I'm glad I could be alive for this. And I hope that I can eventually be someone you're proud to say you spared. But even if that never happens, I still want to try my hardest to get as close to that point as I possibly can."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he fell silent and waited for her to respond. But after several minutes of silence, and several minutes of her keeping her gaze on the lake, Dallas had a feeling that she was not going to respond at all.

He sighed, and turned to leave. "I apologize for wastin' your time. But I've said all I needed to, and I'll let you return to your thoughts in peace—"

"Dallas..."

He froze . "Yes, Carolina?"

"...I can't accept your apology. Not right now."

"...I understand."

She looked at him, her hands travelling up to her helmet. "But, do you want to know why I spared your life?"

Dallas turned back to face her. "Well, I'll admit, I've been curious about it for quite some time."

Carolina paused for a moment, as she pulled her helmet off and her bright red hair tumbled down around her shoulders. "Up until I entered that room, I was still planning on killing you. I was so ready to just...end it right there. To kill the man who had done so much to hurt me, to hurt everyone I cared about. Not only that, but I WANTED to do it. I wanted to kill you."

She paused. "But when I saw you sitting there, so pathetic and sad and broken, watching THAT video of her... I just...couldn't do it. As angry as I was, as much as I wanted it, it just didn't feel right. Nobody deserves that fate, not even you. I don't think even Felix would deserve it. Leaving you to kill yourself seemed even worse, and as Epsilon pointed out, you would likely waste away if the police hauled you off to prison. Every option seemed to result in your death, and as much as I wanted that before I found you, as much as you deserved to be punished for your crimes, there had to be a better way than that."

So she had spared his life out of conflicting pity more than anything. Dallas was still unsure as to why she felt that pity towards him at all, but at least he now knew her reasons. "So you decided to give me to the Reds and Blues?"

"It wasn't the greatest plan," Carolina admitted. "But they didn't care about going after you in the first place. They didn't care about what happened with Project Freelancer, and they didn't care about your history. Did you know Wash didn't want to come help us find you at first, because the Reds and Blues wanted to stay behind?"

"He never told me that," Dallas said. "But I'm not surprised. They have an interestin' effect on people."

Carolina nodded. "They didn't seem to care one way or another about finding you, so I figured there would be little to no conflict between you and them if I brought you with us. Again, it wasn't the BEST plan, but we were supposed to return to Blood Gulch, and it would be easy enough to keep an eye on you out in the middle of some empty canyon until I thought up a better one."

"So you picked the least awful option available," Dallas said. "How very...Blood Gulch-esque of you."

She nodded. "It's like you said: those idiots have an interesting effect on people. I mean, I had no idea what would happen if I brought you with us. I wasn't even sure if sparing your life was the right choice at all. But I have a feeling that if I had been searching for you alone, if I never got them involved...I would have probably just killed you on the spot."

"I see..."

She sighed. "I've spent a lot of time wondering if I did the right thing that day. I made the choice I did because I had no better options, not because it was the choice I wanted to make. Washington and Epsilon weren't too happy about it either, and I didn't blame them. Even when I made it clear to both of them that I would be the one watching out for you, I still had my doubts."

She looked at him. "Things didn't get any better when we crashed landed here. Epsilon and I picked up a transmission from the mercs about the equipment they were stealing from the wreckage and we had no choice but to investigate, which meant leaving you behind with everyone else. I know I should have at least said goodbye or explained the situation before we left but...well...I think we both know that no one in our family is the best at saying goodbye."

"No, no, we're not..." he said sadly.

"But I did feel terrible about leaving you behind with Wash," she continued. "The entire time we were away, I kept wondering what was happening back in the canyon. How were Wash and the others doing? How were you doing? Did I actually care if you were alright, or would I have been fine if I never saw you again?"

Dallas nodded solemnly. "I understand."

"And then we got back, and..." She paused for a moment. "You had a new name. You had accents on your armor. And the Reds and Blues practically accepted you as one of their own. It eased a lot of the worries I had but at the same time, I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad thing."

"...You weren't sure if you were happy about the fact that I was being accepted by them," Dallas said.

"I may have felt sorry for you back in the facility, but it doesn't mean I was suddenly over everything you did," she said. "Those kind of feelings don't just disappear. And to see the Reds and Blues just treat you like some old friend... I didn't know how to feel about that. I wasn't angry, but...it was complicated."

"Understandable..."

She sighed. "However, I could tell that you weren't the same man you used to be. You cared about them, and you were willing to point out a problem in a civilized fashion, rather than just yell at or talk down to someone. And I could tell that every action you took required a lot of thinking on your end. You did everything you could to try and solve a problem without hurting those around you, and you were even willing to put your own life in danger to protect others. You don't even think about her as often as you used to..."

She looked at him. "And even now, to hear you apologize for everything, it's...incredible."

"A good sort of 'incredible?'" Dallas asked.

"I don't know yet," Carolina said honestly. "It's too soon to make that call. But it makes me feel like I did make the right choice that day."

A small smile began to form on her face and Dallas couldn't help but smile in return. "I really am sorry, Carolina. And I am serious about what I said before."

"Well, if that's true, then I'm interested to see what happens next," she said. "And I hope you continue to impress me."

Dallas smiled and gave her an appreciative nod as he looked down at his helmet. No wonder he had struggled with reading her expressions all this time. She had been struggling to understand her own emotions in regards to the situation. She hadn't been mad at him. She hadn't missed him in her life. And she hadn't forgiven him for his past wrongdoings.

And yet, she had also recognized his desperate need to try and be a better person. She hadn't yelled or screamed at him, even if it was what he probably deserved. She was still unsure as to how to feel about him, and yet she hadn't driven him away or told him to never speak to her again.

Dallas thought back to his conversation with Dr. Grey in the forest, and how he had felt afterwards. Okay. That was a good word to describe his feelings now.

He felt okay.

There had been so many different instances as of late where he had felt okay. More than he could probably list on both hands. And yet, it was more times than he could list between Allison's death and the day in the facility. Carolina couldn't forgive him, but that was okay. And okay was better than suicidal, or hopeless, or any sort of negative emotion he had felt for so long.

And Dallas would continue to do whatever he could to make sure things would stay okay. For himself, and for anyone around him.

"Are we done with the apologies?" Epsilon's hologram appeared beside Carolina's shoulder. "Okay, good, because guess who just finished a very long and annoying decryption process? This guy right here."

"You've got the manifest?" Carolina asked.

"Fuck yeah I got the manifest," Epsilon said. "And I believe we've found our culprit."

"Who is it?" Dallas asked.

"A big umbrella company that got a hand in every major market you can think of," Epsilon said. "Even messed with cryogenics a few years back, but it looks like their largest profit comes from weapons and technology. In fact, it also looks like they own most of the stuff on the ship."

A look of knowing washed over Dallas's face. "Epsilon, what's the company's name?"

"Don't tell me you don't know already, Mr. Genius," Epsilon said.

"Epsilon," Dallas said slowly. "What is their name?"

Epsilon stared at him as a holographic logo appeared beside his body. "...Charon Industries."

Dallas began to laugh. A loud, overjoyed, passionate laugh that sounded like it hadn't seen the light of day in years, as things finally began to click. The amount of power that Control seemed to possess over the mercenaries. The seemingly-endless amount of money that could easily be spent on enough weapons and technology to achieve their goal. The fact that they desired his head on a silver platter so strongly that they had given Felix and Locus a specific mission to keep an eye out for him on top of their original mission. The constant egging from said mercenaries regarding his past wrongdoings.

It finally made sense.

"Carolina, what happened to the pirates that we took out at the radio jammer?" Dallas asked.

"They were placed in solitary confinement after Dr. Grey patched them up," she responded. "Kimball's orders."

"Perfect," Dallas said, as he turned his attention to Epsilon. "Epsilon, would you like to accompany me on my trip back to the infirmary? I have a letter I need to write and I could really use your help."

Epsilon chuckled. "You know what? For once, I was hoping you'd ask."

-------------------------------------

"We got 'em."

"Connect us, Epsilon," Dallas said.

"With pleasure."

The radio crackled for a moment before a voice began to fade in and out and Dallas smiled as the voice finally grew more coherent. The voice was garbled and distorted, as if it had been layered with several filters but Dallas could hear the faint hint of a familiar English accent in the mix.

"Yes, hello!" Caboose said loudly upon hearing the voice. "I would like to order!"

"What?" the voice said sharply. "What is this?!"

"An outside transmission..."

"How the Hell did they get this channel?!"

Felix and Locus's voices. Perfect. Dallas gave a nod at the computer and an article flashed onto the screen. The same article that Dr. Grey had mentioned a short while ago, with a photo that proudly displayed all the Reds and Blues for their triumph over Project Freelancer.

"'Colorful Space Marines Stop Corruption,'" Epsilon said aloud. "You know, I really love the picture they used for this thing but I gotta say I liked description even more. Hey, Dallas, I'm having some trouble reading this text, can you tell me what it says?"

"'Pictured above, the Red and Blue troopers of Project Freelancer receive a full pardon from UNSC Oversight Chairman and Charon Industries CEO, Malcolm Hargrove,'" Dallas quoted smugly. "You know, it's funny. I stayed off to the side durin' that photo op. Didn't think it would be wise to answer too many questions about the events that unfolded. But I suppose that was a smart decision, given the fact that the man that happened to be shaking the hands of my friends would be the man tryin' to kill all of us here on Chorus. Am I right, my dear Chairman?"

The voice remained silent for a moment before responding: "Well, it's certainly been a while since I've heard that voice. Hello, Director."

"Director?" Sarge asked. "I don't see no Director here. Only see some nasty blue rookie by the name of Dallas. What about the rest of you?"

"Nope, no Director," Tucker added. "Washington? Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Not a clue," Washington said. "The Director of Project Freelancer is dead. Or, at least, I certainly hope he is. Because if he was, say, alive and caught in the middle of a civil war and the UNSC got word of his presence, they'd probably want to interrogate him."

"And if they interrogate him, he might let it slip that the war was started by a certain CEO of a big-name corporation," Dallas pointed out. "Which would be bad for said corporation and CEO's reputation."

"Especially if the rest of us verify his statements as fact," Carolina added.

"Well, it's a good thing that he's dead then," Caboose said. "Because that would be very bad!"

"Oh, make no mistake, I have no plans to inform the UNSC that your death was...greatly exaggerated," Hargrove said. "Because you see, it's only a matter of time before such an exaggeration becomes fact. Not just for some pathetic ex-Director, but for all of you. And if you were hoping to negotiate some kind of surrender, I'm afraid that your ship has, quite literally, set sail."

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Washington said. "But in the meantime, we were hoping we could read you a little letter."

"Its just a little something we put together for you," Sarge added. "Considerin' we'll probably be seein' a lot of each other over the next few weeks."

"Dallas, would you like to start?" Epsilon asked.

"I couldn't think of a higher honor," Dallas said, his smile widening. "Dear Chairman..."

"It has come to our attention that you have declared war on the planet Chorus," Epsilon continued. "We regret to inform you that this is a really shitty idea."

"Not only have you managed to annoy the people that you failed to kill, time and time again, you've also found a way to piss off an entire planet," Dallas said.

"Now they may not have the best equipment and they might not be the best fighters, but as you're aware, they've been fighting for a very long time," Epsilon said. "And now that they're not fighting each other, they're more than happy to dedicate all of their time to fighting you."

Dallas's brow furrowed. "So, my dear Chairman, to you and your idiotic mercenaries, I think I speak for everyone here when I say: bring it on, motherfuckers! We are not goin' anywhere until this war is finished and the three of you pay for what you've done to these innocent people."

"From your friends, the incredibly badass and sexually attractive, Red and Blue soldiers of Project Freelancer," Epsilon finished. "Oh, and P.S.? Suck our balls."

Dallas couldn't have said it better himself.