#fail keely

[jetfx]

i really be feeling so miserable until im looking at paperwork to set stuff up for college bc i get so excited and then i feel bad again bc i remember i have no idea what im doing😔

[spacerockwriting]

Galladrabbles: Please

Thank you thank you thank you to the wonderful @thepupperino for this weeks prompt, and for @galladrabbles. Just for you, Keely, here are some Mormon Gallavich.

Please

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The tiny bouncy ball hits the side of the wall, repeatedly, in an annoying fashion. They were supposed to be studying, prepping for tomorrow. Ian was sitting at the desk in their shared room, hands to his head as he studies the scripture. He fingers through the locks, making a note that it’s becoming a bit over grown, same as his raven haired partner’s.

“Elder Milkovich!” Ian snaps, finally. “Shut the heckie-doodle up.”

Mickey snorts. “Heckie-doodle?”

Ian grimaces, trying to not swear. He wasn’t that boy anymore. He wasn’t.

“Please shut the fuck up.”

Mickey smirks, knowingly.

[pabsterthelobster]

Princess Snake is a character from the Dragon Ball Z anime, being an antagonist for a filler episode set before the arrivals of the Saiyans on Earth. As Goku travels along Snake Way to get to King Kai's planet, he encounters Princess Snake in her palace and he is tended to by her attendants. Eventually, it revealed that she's actually the goddess of Snake Way itself and she was only being nice to Goku so she could eat him. Of course she fails, and onwards to King Kai's planet he goes. You probably already know this.

But what you don't know is that Princess Snake's attendants have names, but only in the English dubs, and only in certain dubs at that! According to both the Ocean Group and Funimation dubs, their names are (from left to right) Nina, Mimo, Lily, and Keely. I only know this because of the Spanish version of the Dragon Ball wiki. Yeah, for some reason info on the English dub isn't on the English wiki. That's real weird, isn't it?

Also, another fun fact about her heavenly highness: King Yenma is apparently her husband, but that doesn't stop her from pursuing relationships with other men... such as Goku's own elder brother Raditz, according to the game Dragon Ball Z: Harukanaru Densetsu for the DS. Same game says that Yamcha ran into her as well, so I can assume she tried her luck on him as well. Seems to be her MO.

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

I just want to tell you I am (Jamie Tartt x reader)

1.2k

warnings: fluff, language? mention sex like once

summary: Rebecca and Keeley ask you a very suspicious question

a/n: short little engagement drabble <3

“How’s Jamie?”

You, Keeley and Rebecca have begun a tradition of pamper and girl talk before matches, almost every week. Each of you bring things for self care to a rotation house- this time yours- and spoil yourselves and each other. The three of you, the medical and technical director, the publicity mogul and the club owner, make a very unusual trio of three generations. 

You’re in the middle of putting on a bright blue rubber face mask with your hair up in a mask and dressed in your matching fuzzy robe when Keeley poses the question.

Rebecca busies herself with her nails, pretending to not be interested.

You can’t help a face-splitting smile as you gaze at one of the many pictures of the two of you on the wall of your shared residence with the famous football star player: Jamie Tartt himself. In this particular shot, Jamie is holding you up in front of a sunset, your hair flips down and covers both your faces, but if you look carefully, you can see jamie’s adoring eyes. 

patting the mask back on, you avert your eyes. 

“He’s… fine. Great. He’s great actually.”

Keeley tears the seal off a tube of teeth-whitening solution.

“You two are perfect for each other,” She tells you. “You don’t take any of his shit. That’s really good.”

Rebecca flashes her white shimmer nails. Both you and Keeley ooh and ahhh at them.

“you’ve been good for him,” the oldest in the room tells you. “He’s been very good for you, as well.” 

You smile at your two closest friends. 

“d’you reckon you’d marry him?” Keeley asks suddenly. “like, if he proposed tomorrow, what’d you say?”

You stare past her at the screen.

another one of the defining characteristics of your spa days is the sad movies playing in the background. You and your girls always love having a good crying movie in the background, especially if they have happy endings.

(you remember when you had the day at Keely and Roy’s place. The football coach walked in, took one look at the three of you crying while a screaming mother grieved on the huge flatscreen tv, and turned and walked out). In this particular movie, the boy who is sick is being sung to and he starts crying (unrealistically. he’s in a coma).

“It sounds crazy. I know, but i think i’d say yes,” you tell them. “I don’t know. I’ve never loved as hard as i love Jamie. It’s not going away, it’s only getting so much better.”

You watch Rebecca’s face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. After her horrible experience with Rupert, how would she take this?

She looks like she’s trying to hide a smile.

“That’s great, babes,” she tells you. “really, really great.” 

“plus,” you add with a grin. “he’s really, really good in bed.”

“That’s a bonus right there,” rebecca exclaims.

The three of you soon brush the tooth whitening solution on and silently shed tears as the mom on screen begs for mercy.

this is the life.

The match today is a great one to see. Jamie flies on the pitch, and every time he scores he looks up at the box and blows you a kiss. You know he likes to fluster you, and this never fails to disappoint.

when there are only five minutes remaining, rebecca and Keeley stand up and grab one of your elbows each. 

“what’s going on?” you follow them, confused into the stands, and to the private elevator. “where are we going?” 

they share a look. Keeley squeals and rebecca squeezes your shoulders, but they don’t answer your question.

“You’ll just have to wait, my darling.”

you give them looks. They know you don’t particularly like waiting. You’re the one who always looks up spoilers for the movies you watch because you just can’t wait.

You descend past the entrance and to the pit. The smell of sweaty man bombards your nostrils but they keep walking. 

“you guys know you’re not allowed on the pitch, right?”

“don’t worry, babe, we’re not going to the pitch.”

“see even though you say that, it really feels like we’re headed straight into the tunnel that leads to the pitch.”

the second you step foot into the opening, the ref’s whistle blows. The three of you stop short as the crowd erupts into screams and the Richmond chant. Rebecca has her phone out. 

“What is going on?” you ask for what feels like the fifteen hundredth time. the whole Richmond team Is getting closer to you guys. Sam and Isaac don’t even say hello, they hoist you onto their shoulders and charge back out onto the field.

“put me down!” you are surrounded by the team - your family. “You two are super sweaty!”

once you reach the center circle they let you down. The whole team - and the other, for that matter, surround you. 

Jamie Tartt, your boyfriend, cuts through the circle, followed by all four coaches. 

he’s holding a microphone and a ring box in his hand.

you bring your hands up to your mouth and look to your sides. Sam and Jan Maas, the two closest to you give you the hugest, shit-eating smiles you’ve ever seen as jamie gets down on one knee, still in his kit, and flips the ring box lid. 

“(y/n), love.” his Mancunian accented voice reverberated throughout the gasping crowd. “I live you more than i’ve loved anyone in my life. I will never stop loving you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” he pauses and you  cover your eyes, sloppily wiping up the tears that have gathered in your eyes. “Do you want to spend the rest of yours with me? will you make me the luckiest man on the planet and marry me?” 

The crowd, the teams, and even the birds flying above seem suspended in this perfect moment. The moment your perfectly imperfect boyfriend becomes your fiancée.

you nod furiously. frantically. 

“yes,” you whisper. “of course i’ll marry you, Jamie.”

he quickly hands off the microphone and charges toward you, taking you into his arms and spinning around amidst the roar of the crowd and the teams gathered around you. You’re crying. you’re both crying. He kisses you in his arms and then takes the ring out of its box and slides it onto your finger.

You press your forehead against his and kiss him again, crying.

This is the moment you will remember forever.

+

When you get a moment of silence, jamie kisses you sweetly. 

“You don’t have to, love.” 

you pull back, startled. 

does he mean he wants to take it back?

“Jamie?”

“I put ya in the spot out there in the pitch. You don’t need to say yes right now. It’s okay.”

You can see the pain this statement causes in his eyes. You shake your head, new tears of happiness blooming for his consideration of you. 

“Jamie, I meant what i said. You are the love of my life, okay?” you hold out your hand. “And we’re getting married.”

He kisses you again, but this time, you can feel the promise of more behind his desperate, post game, adrenaline fueled lips.

should i make this a series?

[fnvminorcharacterpoll]

FNV Minor Character Poll - GRAND FINALS

Left: Keely, field researcher for the NCR Office of Science and Industry. —"These people [in Vault 22] died trying to stop a monster of their own creation. Failing to complete their work would mean they died in vain. And that's what I intend to do."

Keely was the fifth seed in the tournament overall and the winner of the A-side bracket. She beat Antony, Mr. RADical, Mick & Ralph, Trudy, and Easy Pete to enter Grand Finals.

Right: Beatrix Russell, hired guard at the Old Mormon Fort and potential sex worker at the Atomic Wrangler. —"I've been around long enough to observe patterns of human behavior. Physical and mental anguish are especially exciting to explore."

Beatrix was the seventh seed in the tournament overall and the winner of the B-side bracket. She beat Chomps Lewis, the Lonesome Drifter, Siri, Daisy Whitman, and No-Bark Noonan to enter Grand Finals.

Designated cheerleaders were not available for this match-up.

[Bracket | Info & FAQs | Become a Designated Cheerleader]

[thepupperino]

Galladrabbles #120 - Bones

Another week, another episode of me failing the “Keely Write Something Other Than Angst” challenge 😬

Thank you to @heymacy for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt! To properly thank you, have some Mickey post-3x06 😬

- - - - -

Mickey’s no stranger to pain. He knows the sharp crack of breaking bones, the dull ache of abused muscles. He knows that cuts and scabs get worse before they get better and that a healing bruise turns all kinds of nasty colors.

He can deal with the gash across his forehead, the bruises adorning his body. He can handle the soreness that comes with every step, the lingering pain when he rolls over in bed.

But this pit in his stomach, the clenching in his chest—it’s a pain he’s never experienced before, and he’s not sure it will ever heal.

[chocmarss]

RUBS HAND OVER MY FACE i’m going a little. insane. about Strider Rex, honestly. The irony (?) of him looking no more than 30 when he’s 84 or something compared to canon Rex where he looks like he’s 56 when he’s actually 28. I just. MAN.

Okay, but AU of Rex living longer than normal clones, than normal humans, that the only moment he actually looks like an old man is when he’s 160? 180? Very old, kriffing ancient, or so he’s been told by everyone else.

Something, something the Kaminoans fucked up a whole batch of clones that the moment they hit puberty (9-10 years human years, 18-ish in clone years), they stay super young for decades. DECADES. Reverse engineering but make it sloth pace.

Nala Se, the absolute worst living being to exist, tries to terminate them, but then, that would mean wasting a whole batch of clones and making it look suspicious in all ends because even if she did make up excuses and lies (the clones could probably have failing organs, or thinning blood, or anything that would compromise selling their ‘usefulness’) it’ll just make her look bad. Oh, this batch is sullied? You overlooked a mistake when there are fifty clones in a batch? You could’ve just checked one of them properly? You caused Kamino millions of credits? No, no, they will be a reminder of your negligence, Nala Se, and I will see it that their uses are fulfilled like the rest of them.

So she just makes sure these clones are all put through the hell-like training exercises anyone in their short life would go through that the casualty reports are off the fucking roof. Only 30% of that batch survived, and the rest of the clones come up with all kinds of stories about how that’s the batch that’s cursed, see, because for some fuckdamn reason they’re always getting the short end of the stick. Absolutely no leeway for that batch. They’re stiff like boulders if you ever try talking to them. ‘Think they fried their brains every time the Long Necks decided to make them go through the torture machine.

In the end, 10 graduated out of 50, and they become the best fucking soldiers everyone would ask for. They’re all still painfully human, and when Rex hears that Keeli used his life to fight with his Jedi, he has to sit down.

They keep in touch, and sometimes, a brother who isn’t theirs, who’s not from their little group of survivors, would deliver dreadful news. One by one, they’re dwindling down until their stories are almost legends amongst the Shinies, the other batches who are there to see them fall, and it’s years into the war that Rex could count what was left of them on one hand.

Wilco? Gone too soon. Howzer? Rex lost him somewhere in the beginning of the Empire’s reign. There’s no way of knowing whether or not he’s still alive, but seeing that reports say he was MIA, Rex can take it as a good sign. Last he heard, Howzer’s on his way to be executed on Ryloth before he escaped. Rex hopes he’ll get to see him again.

It’s 15 years after the Empire becomes a stick in everyone else’s asses that Rex accepted he’d be one of the Fucking Weird Ones left. While Wolffe and Gregor look well into middle age, Rex looks like he hasn’t aged a year in his life. He looks twenty-two, is actually twenty-eight, but he feels like he’s the one who’s fifty-six.

“Damn,” one of the snack-sized Rebels —a kid, kriff, and the one with colourful Mando armour isn’t any better too— breathes out. The kid’s eyes whipped between Rex and Wolffe, to Gregor, before going back to Rex. “It’s like your their son or something.”

Wolffe and Gregor fucking howls with laughter while Rex chucks a balled up paper at their way. He threatens them with clanker oil in their drinks, before he says to the kid, “I’m older than both of them.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Sabine drawls, blaster flipping between her fingers and the Jedi, the one who’s staring at Rex as if he sprouted another head, looks away with resentment in the tightness of his jaw. “You look kinda, I dunno, near my age.”

That sets off both Wolffe and Gregor again, holding onto each other as they laugh and chortle and are bent to their knees that Rex really wants to kick their asses.

“You’re—“ Wolffe manages before he clears his throat, ignoring Rex’s glower. “You’re, what, seventeen?”

“Yeah.”

Gregor snorts, chokes, before he’s hiding his face into Wolffe’s shoulder as the other man nods sagely. “Yeah, you’re not far off.”

Rex has done everything he could in making sure this Rebellion stands, going in and out of Seelos every other month or so to trudge through fire blasters, proton torpedoes, Stormtrooper wayward shots, and to brave through dry planets, drenched planets, sweat-sticking humid ones, and this is the thanks he gets. All because he looks a little younger than he should be.

Rex jabs a finger at Wolffe’s way. “Eat shit.”

“Is that the way to talk to your father, Rex?” Gregor tsks, shaking his head. “Shame on you.”

Rex aims the same finger at him, too. “Screw you. In fact, eat shit.”

So, Rex ages slower than them all, and he gets to see them die. It sucks ass, it sucks ass real bad, because he’s losing everyone he knows, everyone he loves, because he has longevity in his fucking genes while his brothers die too fucking fast. Cursed, they’re all so very cursed, and he hates it, he hates it so much.

He’s watching all of them get old, get sick, get buried or cremated. He watches them fade, and even when they’re all rickety in their joints, Rex has only three white hairs in his entire life.

“You’re still very handsome,” Ahsoka hums, patting one veiny hand on his cheek. The wrinkles at the corner of her eyes are too deep, her eyes as wise, wiser even, than the last time he thought he lost her and found her again, but the smile she gives him is just the same as the ones from all those years ago. “And very young. And yet, you decide to sit with this old lady when you could’ve gotten yourself some adventure.”

She’s pushing ninety years old, and she doesn’t really need a cane unless she’s climbing up hills —which she shouldn’t have to, like ‘Soka, please— standing tall in her library, going through old Jedi archives that have been founded again, along with the ones Luke managed to salvage from the fire he created during his midlife crisis.

Rex tries not to think how he’s gone, too, Leia along with him.

“I think I prefer going through dusty books with you than going any more adventures,” he jokes softly, trapping her hand against his chest with his own, and again, he pushes away the thought at how incredibly thin she feels underneath his touch. “I need a break, after going through all of that three times.”

“If that’s what you want,” She gives him another pat on his cheek with her free hand before she walks away from him, already hauling a couple of old looking books with her. “All I’m saying is how this will get boring very fast, you know.”

“I can do boring,” he tells her, following her to the back room, where she’d preserve the old texts into new books by writing them down, doing it the old fashion way, looking at the smudge or burnt off pieces through a microscope. “I need boring, actually. It’d be good for me.”

“I’m sure,” She’s already opening the books, one hand reaching for her writing apparatus, already absorbed into the text. “Think Kix’s gonna come over soon?”

Another brother trapped by time, found in ice and in guilt and in shame. The first time he saw Rex, Kix hadn’t believed him when he said it had been fifty years since the end of the Clone Wars. He was disoriented, freezing, and when Rex explained how much time had passed, recognition kicked in, and Kix remembered Rex’s condition, saw how different his Captain was compared than last time.

Not much, Kix had said, when he calmed down, eyes heavy. But it’s there, in your face.

Now, after two decades have passed since they found him, Kix looks almost as old as Ahsoka is.

And Rex remains excruciatingly ageless.

“He will,” Rex doesn’t want to think of how soon he’s losing his friends, how he’ll lose them too, like he did with the others. He can’t bring himself to go through that now, now when Ahsoka’s here, wanting the best for him, but letting him get what he wants. “He heard about the cake. He can’t resist it to keep away.”

“He does love his fruitcake,” she mutters, distracted, one weathered finger tracing the lines.

Rex is already helping her with the other book, rewriting what he can read, keeping his gnawing emotions in the cages of his chest as he thinks, not for the first, that it’s better if he lives longer than they all did. He gets to be there for them until the end, he’ll be there to see them off, and that gives him some form of ease.

They don’t have to be alone. Rex is there, and he’ll be there until it’s his time to go.

[vodika-vibes]

You know, I told myself I wasn't going to send you more prompts for a while, to give you a break from me, but then you reblogged those "I'll keep you safe" prompts and I caved 😮‍💨 They make me feral.

I'm keeping these simple, though, just a clone and a prompt, and I'll let your imagination do the rest.

To start us off, let's go with...

Keeli and, "I can stay the night, y'know? If it'd make you feel better."

Please and thank you (and I'll be back)

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Stay

Summary: When news of Palpatine's plot for the clones and the Jedi and the rest of the galaxy is revealed live, you, understandable, break down. Fortunately, you have a doting boyfriend.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x Reader

Word Count: 747

Warnings: Reader is not having a good day

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: It's so nice to know that my evil plan to make people interact with me worked, lol

Divider by Saradika

You press a shaking hand over your mouth, your gaze locked on the holo. You watch, in horrified silence, as Palpatine confesses all of his crimes to Generals Kenobi and Windu. 

Tears fill your eyes as Palpatine tells the galaxy about the chips that were installed in the clones' heads, chips that would strip them of their free will. Chips that he planned to use to force the clones to murder the jedi. 

The tears roll down your face as you listen to him boast about how he’s pulling the strings on both sides of the war.

It’s almost a relief when the holofeed cuts out. And you wonder if it was the news channel who cut the feed, or if it was the Jedi who didn’t want the galaxy to watch as they gave Palpatine what he deserves.

At the same time, you don’t care.

Your heart hurts, and you can’t seem to stop the sobs from slipping from your lips. 

You start when you hear the garage door open, and you scramble to your feet when you hear the family heavy footsteps of Keeli. You press your hand over your mouth to stifle your sobs, not wanting to worry him, but you’re unable to stop the tears from falling. 

You listen to the sound of his armor getting set on the floor, because he hates wearing his armor in your house, and then Keeli turns the corner and steps into the kitchen. And he stops as soon as he sees you.

And you see a bandage on his temple and a fresh wave of tears washes over you. “Keel-” You’re unable to finish his name as a sob falls from you.

Something rueful crosses Keeli’s face, and he crosses the room and several large steps, “Oh, my cyare.” He whispers as he pulls you into his arms, and presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I take it you heard then?”

You press your face against him, and nod, “News.”

He very gently pushes you back, and he reaches up to cup your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe the tears off your face, “Hey, I’m okay.” Keeli whispers.

“He…” You choke down a sob, “He was going to take you from me.” 

“He was. But he failed, cyare.” Keeli keeps his voice soft, “He failed and no one will ever be able to take me from you now.” He reaches down and takes one of your hands, and presses it, very lightly, against the bacta patch on the side of his head, “My chip was removed. I insisted on it before I came here.”

You shake your head, “Can’t stop crying.” You say through your tears.

And Keeli smiles, “That’s okay. Come here,” He folds his arms around you and lays his cheek on the top of your head, “Go ahead and cry, cyare.”

And, as if that was all the permission you needed, you dissolve into a fresh wave of tears. Your hands curl into fists against his chest as you cling to Keeli as though he’s your only lifeline. 

You feel Keeli kiss the top of your head, his grip around you tight and comforting. And, as you hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, you slowly start to calm down. “There we go,” Keeli’s voice is low and soothing, “Are you feeling better?”

You sniff, “Little bit.”

“Would you like me to order pizza so we can just cuddle and watch something cute?” He asks.

You nod, once, but you refuse to let him go.

Keeli looks down at the top of your head for a moment, “Cyare,” He pauses, and then he smiles, “I can stay the night, y’know? If it’d make you feel better.”

You blink and look up at him, surprised. He’s never agreed to stay the night before, preferring to take your relationship slow. And you love that about him. “You don’t have to,” You whisper.

“Would you feel better if I did?” Keeli asks.

You slowly, and hesitantly, nod. “Always want you to stay.” You admit.

He smiles at you, “Honestly, I always want to stay.”

You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, “Then stay.” You whisper. 

“Gladly,” He replies, and then his lips are pressed against yours in a deep kiss, and his arms are tightening around you, as though he never wants to let you go.

Which is fine with you. You never want him to let go either.

[puppypeter]

this is silly but i can't stop wanting to know more about Jamie and Simon's relationship through the years. How he was first introduced, maybe a teenager Jamie didn't like him because he didn't trust another man around his mum after James or because James was all in his ears about Simon trying to ruin their family (just cause James clearly failed at getting back together with Georgie), how he wasn't a proper man with all his baking and cooking, how he was soft. I want to know how their relationship changed through the years and of them becoming friends first and then family and having adult conversations around family and feelings and boundaries and their pasts and it revolving around time in the kitchen (there's just something about families and food and quality time), with Simon cooking and Jamie sat by the counter chatting away and slowly starting to chop something here and help out which he didn't think he was allowed at first because he has no idea how to do anything in the kitchen (+ Georgie smiling overhearing them getting closer from the living room).

There's also two unrelated scenarios/prompts in my head aka Simon auditioning and getting in for Masterchef UK (with Georgie and Jamie being super supportive) + maybe he doesn't win but Jamie surprises him by buying a place to turn into a restaurant or something OR OR Jamie on some kind of Celebrity Bake Off where they need to participate in pairs with someone (even non-famous) of their choice that has experience - so he asks Simon who cries his eyes out that Jamie would ask him! :) (bonus points if Roy and/or Keely are featured in all of this cause ofc)

[blodgmonster]

Part....three(???) of my Kingdom of Ash reread commentary. Life got in the way again. It's taken me way too long to read this book.

-- I fucking LOVE Farasha. Ill tempered black mare named butterfly kicking Valg ass and taking names. "'I have need of you, fierce-heart.' She met Farasha's dark, raging eyes. 'I have need of you.' Her voice broke. 'Please.' And gods above, that horse stilled. Blinked." FARASHA, I LOVE YOU ❤️ Hellas's horse helping Anneith blessed Elide find Hellas blessed Lorcan.

-- "His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death held him so gently" Yessssss.

-- "Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself. 'I love you,' he whispered in Elide's ear. 'I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken.' Her tears flowed past him in the wind. 'And I will be with you...' His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. 'I will be with you always.'"

"'No.' There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel. 'No', she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth. Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged. If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him. Together. They would either outrun this or die together."

--"Maeve's death blow. Spent here to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain." To save Elide and Lorcan and my girl Farasha.

-- a little bit dumb to take the keys to Morath. What if Dorain failed and Erawan got his hands on all three of them?

- YOOOO THE MYCENIANS!!! Good timing!

-- Lysandra and Rolfe could be a fun ship.

-- Lorcan and Elide FINALLY confessing their love for each other, well...Lorcan said it earlier but now Elide is too. I LOVE them together.

-- The Crochans answering their queens call!!!!!!!

-- oh Dorian hid the keys. Not as dumb as we thought. Though if he died in there how would anyone else have found the keys to make the Lock? So a little bit dumb.

-- Maeve's powers are waaaay too similar to Rhys' to be a coincidence

-- "There is only one witch who will be my queen." Dorian is where it's AT.

-- Elide telling her uncle that she will never think of him again is VERY Ever After coded and I'm here for it.

-- Manon, the Thirteen, and the Crochans coming through in the clutch!!!

-- "So Lorcan did." Controversial opinion time! So many people whine that she skips this sex scene and I do get it. But also, not EVERYTHING needs to be explicit. As much as I love Silver Flames there were times when I found myself flipping through the umpteenth sex scene. Like, ugh. Another one, we get it, Nesta and Cassian fuck nasty. It would honestly be a little bit weird if she completely halted the plot of the khaganate army racing against time to get to Orynth for a sex scene. "'Show me everything.' So Lorcan did" is evocative and I kind of love it.

-- Fuck Iskra Yellowlegs. Manon screaming and pleading for Abraxos. The love she has for him is SO DEEP.

-- PETRAH BLUEBLOOD! I FORGOT! VENGEANCE!!!!!!!!!!! FOR KEELIE!!!!!!

-- the witch tower is back up. Oh no. Oh no Oh nonononono no no no no I'm not ready no. No. No.

-- "Live, Manon" ...."Bring our people home."

-- "and it was not darkness, but light — light bright and pure as the sun on snow, that erupted from Asterin. Light as Asterin made the Yielding. As the Thirteen, their broken bodies scattered around the tower in a near-circle made the Yielding as well."

I fucking can't. It's too much. I love the Thirteen so much. Part 4 coming soon, as soon as I stop crying.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Cabur Kad'edee

AU where Kamino is commissioned to create a new type of elite clone soldiers designed to have the ability to shapeshift into powerful creatures that can be used to shift the tides out on the battlefield.

This sparks a secretive project known only as the Shifter Initiative, which begins research and work into a completely new venue of cloning and gene-splicing science. It is kept under wraps due to the theoretical nature of recreating in humans something that most humanoids are incapable of doing naturally. And, in due time, the project is even scrapped entirely after being deemed a waste of time and resources.

The tubies selected to carry the implanted gene that would allow for them to shift, never got past decanting due to complications associated with the bodies themselves rejecting the synthetic mutation, and the only surviving subject of the Shifter Initiative (SC-7567) didn't display any form of abilities linked to the project.

Aside from his blond hair and unusually amber colored eyes the freshly decanted baby clone was nothing special, and got sent off to be integrated with a squad of four other regular clones to be trained as any other standard class trooper. With this final reassignment the Shifter Initiative is completely forgotten about.

Three years later, a particularly impatient Trainer loses his temper when cadets Grey, Howzer, Jek, Keeli and Rex fail yet another assignment their terrible teacher had failed to prepare them for. Frustrated, the Trainer sought to make Grey into an example and began to beat the young cadet mercilessly after accusing the "defective" CC of being the cause behind his squad's constant failures and unruliness.

No matter how much the others tried to get the Trainer to let up, the infuriated and stubborn natborn wouldn't back off. The fear of losing one of his ori'vode (one of few who'd protected him from other squads who bullied him for his visual mutations) to the wrath of a Trainer, triggers something dormant within Rex to finally awaken. A power the Kaminoans had thought impossible to implant into a mere clone. One which gives the young boy the necessary means to put an end to the Trainer's abuse for good...

It is thusly with the death of a cruel trainer (severely mauled by a young boy seeking to protect his vod), that the legend of the Cabur Kad'edee (Guardian Sabertooth) begins... A rather well guarded tale that captain Rex of the 501st doesn't share very openly for fear of being seen as nothing more than what he can become should the need arise.

Bonus under the Cut

---

Young Cadets Grey, Jek, Howzer, Keeli and Rex (in sabertooth cub form)

[believemetheodore]

Two Sides, One Story

Ted Lasso x F!Reader

Very, very, very loosely based on (but definitely inspired by), the film Tumbledown.

Warnings: None that I can think of (let me know if you want me to add something)

The box is on his doorstep when he gets home. It’s plain brown paper, tied up with a  red bow. The note on top reads nothing more than ‘For Ted’. Inside, he hangs up his keys, slips off his shoes and jacket and sets the package on the coffee table, lifting the lid off to find another note and a manila envelope. 

Ted, The article goes to print tomorrow, but I needed you to be the first to read it. You told me to write my truth, and I did. This is my original unedited draft. I’ll be waiting on the bench by Crown & Anchor. If I don’t see you before midnight, I promise you will never have to hear from me again. But, for what it’s worth, I hope you come. 

Curiosity piqued, he slips the pages out of the envelope. Glancing at the clock, he begins to read. 

When this assignment crossed my desk, I thought it was a mistake. I had never had any interest in sports or sports culture; I had never been to a football match; never set foot in any kind of stadium; I had never met, or interviewed an athlete.  Being asked to craft a multipage feature about AFC Richmond and their unfortunate relegation, was an absolute shock, to say the least. My editor assured me that he had made no mistake. This was my assignment. Shock gave way to fear as it became apparent during the initial research stage that I was further out of my depth than I had realized. 

I met Richmond’s manager, Coach Ted Lasso, a week later. Perhaps it was my nerves giving me away, but he had been quick to notice that I had no idea what I was talking about when it came to football. I had expected to be laughed out of the room or asked not to return until I figured things out or found someone more knowledgeable. But, instead, he offered one of the warmest smiles and admitted the game had been a learning curve for him as well. He said, “I’m an open book. You can ask me anything. Unless it’s about offsides”. 

The freedom with which he was able to confess there were things he did not understand, and his courage to ask for help rather than become frustrated at his lack of knowledge was the first major turn in my direction. It became clear very early on, speaking to coach Lasso and observing the team during training, that this article needed to be about more than the team’s relegation and return. This was, and always had been, about more than a simple underdog story. 

She’d arrived at Richmond in the middle of a rain storm, soaked from head to toe. But she carried herself with a confidence that would make anyone believe the water-logged look was intentional and not just the cruel misfortune of being caught without an umbrella in London’s rainy autumn. 

With the help of Keely and Rebecca, and an AFC Richmond sweater, she’d managed to fix herself a clean, dry outfit. There was zero hesitation, no buffer period, or warming up; she dove straight into her introductory questions. 

And she asked all the ‘right’ questions, well-rehearsed. Her tenacity and determination were softened (but not diminished), only by her genuine curiosity.

As the conversations went on, her neat handwritten list of football terminology grew longer in the margin of her notebook. He remembers the crease in her brow every time someone used a mentioned technical term or confusing rule. She hadn't come across as shy, but the way she skirted around questions about herself; walked with her notebook close to her chest, shielding her scribbles and ideas, it all spoke to a nervousness and a near shame he hadn't expected to see in her. 

By the end of the day conversation had circled back to offsides, 

“It’s like learning another language,” he had told her. He chose not to mention that he failed high school Spanish. 

That first day plays in technicolour behind his eyes, every word, every detail as well remembered as the name of his first-grade girlfriend. It’s odd how the mind works; remembering things you had no idea would be important further down the line. Filing away memories you hadn’t known you wanted to keep, moments you’d thought might fade with time.

He’s glad he remembers. 

By Christmas, I had thought I had seen all I needed and learned all I could about the team. I had foolishly believed that I fully grasped the team’s energy. I thought I had a lens to write with. The piece I had begun to write focused on Coach Lasso and the team, a story of positivity, and overcoming obstacles. Their first season back in the Premier League after their relegation.  I had notes about the players; Sam Obisanya’s dedication to social change, Jamie Tartt’s impressive shift in playing style and the stark difference in his personal behaviour compared to previous seasons. But still, I couldn’t see the truth sitting right in front of me. I was far too focused on the sport. 

Winter came quickly, and with it, the holiday season. Christmas came and went. He Facetimed with Henry just like he had the year before, opening their gifts together before the boy slipped away excited to enjoy his new toys and gadgets. The exchange of Christmas wishes between himself and Michelle had been polite, like all of their exchanges, but the cozy, warm yule-tide cheer was sorely lacking. The Higgins’ house, was once again the landing spot for the majority of the AFC Richmond family. She’d mentioned earlier in the week that she was going to be alone for the holidays, but she didn’t come to Leslie’s. In fact, he’d heard nothing but radio silence for days. 

A few times, he caught himself typing out a text to her, just checking up with her, or a knock-knock joke that might make her smile. He’d learned early on that he liked her smile a great deal. 

She did come to Rebecca’s New Years Eve mixer. She was dressed in a black dress with silver sparkles, and Ted’s eyes followed her around the room. He tried to help himself, and chided himself, feeling like a creep watching her from across the room without saying a word. But the glints and glimmers of the sequins caught his attention with every move she made. His attempts to distance himself hadn’t mattered much in the end. Both of them found themselves in the kitchen as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

“Did you leave any stars up in the sky there, or did you bring them all in here with you?” He asked, the sparkles of her dress shimmering even in the lower light. 

She looked down at herself, laughing, “I just borrowed a few. I’ll have them back up there by morning”. 

“Well, as long as they get returned, I suppose that’s alright,” his hands made their way into his pockets.  

“Refill?” She asked him, pouring herself a glass of wine, and holding up the bottle towards him in question. 

He shook his head in response, “no thanks. I appreciate your offering, though”.

Silence passed between them, heavy but not oppressive. Comfortable. He remembers thinking how odd yet wonderful it is to be able to trust someone to hold up the quiet moments with you. 

“You alright?” he spoke, being the first to break the quietude as he usually was.

She set her glass down, and offered him a half smile, “I don't know. I suppose it feels like I'm intruding. First, I'm following you all around the club, and at every match, and now I'm invading your holiday party”.

“Uh oh, did no one tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You're a Part of the team. Sure it's temporary. But, this article you're writing is for all of us as well. We're all in this together. Different stakes, but the way I see it, right now, we're all playing the same game”. 

The bells rang out at midnight, the revelry punctuated by the sudden press of lips to his cheek. Fluttering and quick, the barely there ghost of a sensation. The brilliant sound of Rebecca singing Auld Lang Syne echoed out from the living room, and the woman in front of him simply said, 

“Happy New Year, Ted”.

Over the holidays, I saw the heart of the team. Throughout the season, at matches, training, and press conferences, I watched a team grow together, learning from their past mistakes, admitting their faults, and standing up for what they believe in. But, the moments where I could truly see the team and their dynamics shine, were celebrations after a big win, ringing in the New Year, or the excitement of a surprise party for someone’s birthday. Lasso and his fellow coaching staff cultivate an environment where these players can grow as people, not just players. Open conversation is encouraged, and emotional responses are not condemned. Through thick and thin, it is obvious that on the pitch, and in the locker room, these people are more than just teammates and colleagues. They’re a family.

They had crushed Leicester City 4-0. A major win for Richmond, and it had secured their position far enough up the table that the threat of relegation, no longer haunted them. The fear of relegation would always loom, though it was a healthy fear now. A renewed motivation to keep moving up, their eyes and hearts set on winning the whole fucking thing. Maybe not this season, but the team's determination made Ted certain that AFC Richmond could take home the cup sooner than later.  

Beers were passed out, and champagne bottles popped open as the locker room became a celebration zone.

 The Richmond cheer was still audible as the fans filed out of the stands, the team yelling it at the top of their lungs. It’s one thing Ted had always loved about football, American football, and now soccer; the passion so vocal that the sound reverberates in your chest. A love that you can truly feel and share. 

He spots her across the room, chatting with Rebecca and Keely, the genuine joy radiating from her as she congratulates each of the players as they pass by her. He hadn’t been lying when he said she was part of the team. 

“Are you joining us tonight?” Collin asks her. “Maybe, we’ll see how long it takes me to type up my notes,” she offers diplomatically. 

“You have to join us!” Keely insists.

She glances around the room, eyes meeting his own, “Okay, fine. You’ve got me for the night”. 

He’s not sure what changed her mind, but he does his best not to overthink the way she looked at him, eyes searching for answers when he’s not entirely certain he even knows the question being asked. He hopes her consternation dissipates. He wants to erase it; this worry of intruding, of being too much. She’s clever and funny, kind and genuine, and he’s left to wonder who, in her life, ever told her otherwise. 

She had told him a couple of weeks after her research started that one of the best parts of being a writer was being able to see people for who they really are. To be able to distil all their traits, and flaws, the walls they put up and the masks they wear, into words and phrases, honest and open, but complex and detailed. She told him she was still figuring him out, but she knew the moment she met him that he was as good of a man as he came across. She admitted she could see his hurt, and darkness lingering beneath it, but she knew he was real. She saw him. 

He hopes she can see herself. 

Two weeks before my deadline, I began to unravel. Admittedly, I was completely overwhelmed by my lack of direction, thwarted by my own fear once again. I wrote about Roy Kent and his transition from lifetime footballer, to pundit, to coach for the team he’d called home in the last half of his football career. Scoured over my notes, considering Kent’s impact on the team, and then the team's influence on him. Watched the footage of Coach Lasso’s candid conversation about mental health in athletics. I re-read articles about Nathan Shelly’s departure from the Richmond coaching staff. And it was only then that I realized that the secret to Richmond’s dynamic, and Ted Lasso’s motivations started with how a person felt about themself and circled around the common theme of accountability. Careful consideration of one’s treatment of others around them, and the way they speak about themselves have the power to completely topple toxicity. Change starts from within. You have to believe in yourself, and do what you love.

His phone call with Michelle working out the details of Henry’s potential visit to London over spring break, served as nothing but a reminder of how much his life had changed in the last 2 and a half years. Even worse still was the day’s date staring him in the face every time he picked up his phone or glanced at the calendar. All of the season’s matches were plotted out across the month in red marker, but all he could see was his wedding anniversary in the bold black numbers printed in the square. It was just another day now. 

The previous year, it hadn’t hit as hard. Like being dropped in ice cold water, his divorce left him disoriented, grappling with himself to take in any meaningful amount of breath.  With an additional year now passed, he had the distance he needed to process it. Doctor Sharon had helped a lot with that too. But where he had expected to feel indifference, the initial shock had been traded in for a notion of failure. 

He closed himself off that day, sticking his nose to the grindstone, wanting only to do his best at the things still in his control. But somehow, she saw through it, and after training, when he thought he was alone, staring out at the pitch, she spoke,

“You alright, coach?” “Hey, some days are better than others, right? I’ll be alright”. She nodded, setting her notebook down, lowering herself to sit on the ground and patting the grass next to her. He sat down next to her, not giving it much thought. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“It is-- was my anniversary today,” the admission like a thorn in his ribs. 

“You’re allowed to remember the good things. Something ending doesn’t mean you have to pretend it didn’t happen”. 

And maybe that’s what he’d been waiting to hear. Permission to miss what he once had, recognition of his desire to have those things again. While things with Michelle hadn’t worked out, he still has a whole lot of love to give. Maybe the buzzing feeling in his chest was less to do with what he lost, and more to do with what he yearns to have much more. 

Now, he lets himself wonder if he’ll ever get that great love again, if he even deserves it. He’d spent so much of his life thinking that Michelle was it for him. The new fear of messing up what could be an even greater love, a second chance, an opportunity to feel like he’s been struck by lightning rattles around his head. 

I was no exception to Lasso’s philosophies. It is near impossible to hide your insecurities or worries from him. So, it was no surprise when he asked me, “Have you always wanted to be a journalist?”. I couldn’t find it in me to lie to him. The answer was, no. I never planned on being a journalist. And while it makes me happy, it’s never been a true passion. I asked him how he knew he was meant to be a coach. He only shrugged and said, “It’s what I’m passionate about. When you know, you know”. Apparently, he was coaching me as well. Not on the pitch with the players, but in everyday life, as a colleague, as a friend, as a person who cares. He’s magnetic in his optimism, and his compassion. I can honestly say, I have never been more honoured to be able to call someone my friend. The shift in culture at Richmond shows just how powerful Lasso’s mentality can be, now more than ever, as they make leaps and bounds towards their goal of the FA Cup. Kindness, selflessness, and self-care do not need to be bad words in the world of football. 

He caught up with her just before she entered the locker rooms, 

“Hey, do you know what time it is?”

“Uh,” looking at her phone, she replied, “ten a.m.” “Weird…” he glanced at his bare wrist, “my watch says it’s cake o’clock!”

The locker room doors are thrown open, and the roar of ‘surprise’ nearly knocked her over. Ted’s hand at the small of her back guided her into the room where a cake and gift basket sat waiting. 

He remembers the tears that filled her eyes as she took in all the streamers and balloons the boys had insisted on setting up. He had found himself holding back his own, lord knows he’d never been very good at goodbyes, but this felt more difficult. 

In that moment, he’d struggled to understand why. But now he holds the paper in his hand just a little bit tighter, his fingertips dimpling the page. It hits him like a brick wall. Overwhelmed, but not drowning, he weighs each moment from the year, every greeting, every touch, the kiss on the cheek, her compassion, her patience. He examines not only how he feels about her, but how she makes him feel about himself. The renewed sense of hope she’d given to him so easily, without agenda, the dispensation of unintentional wisdom, his permission to move on. 

He can’t say for sure, but it feels something like love. A little spark, the kindling there for something more. All this time, he’d chased this feeling, like an itch you can never quite get at, right there at the back of his mind, and taking root in his heart. And maybe it won't last. Maybe it’s just a feeling. But the chance for something more? The opportunity to build on an affection he knows is true? He’d be stupid to ignore it. And so his heart races as he continues to read. 

Ted Lasso taught me to see in myself all the things I had deemed ‘not good enough’, consider all the things I’d been afraid of doing, and question why. I saw in myself an unbridled fear of change, an inability to take risks. Once burned, twice shy. I was confronted by all the dreams and aspirations I had put on hold just to do the things that came easy to me instead. But this pattern of simplicity, while it’s brought comfort, it has sparked very little joy. I’ve been forced to live with all of the good and bad within me in equal measure. And so, I choose now to be honest with myself. I choose to do all the things I’ve always been too afraid to do. I choose to dream bigger. I choose to believe. And that's the real power. That's the difference. That's AFC Richmond.

He reaches the final paragraph, circled in red pen.

Ted Lasso changed my life. I sit here trying to write about a sport I still don't understand. I can hear the cheers of screaming fans, and the team celebrating their latest win. I have mountains made of moments, and memories. Piles of notes newspapers and reporters would kill for. I want to write about it all, but it comes out in fragments, dull and lifeless. Ted told me once I should write my truth. This is my truth: I love it all when I look back at the last couple of months, but I only see one man. The man I wish would cut himself some slack. The man who deserves to live the life he wants, not just the one he thinks he deserves. The man I love more than I ever thought possible. I love you, Ted Lasso.

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. The new awareness grows. He moves quickly, the papers abandoned as he shuffles into his shoes and throws on his coat. 

The Rain that had started as a drizzle earlier in the evening, now falls in sheets. Shielded by his umbrella, and warm in his puffer coat he hopes she’s staying warm and dry. Though he allows himself to chuckle at the odd romanticism of getting a cold in the name of love. Worse things have happened. 

True to her word, she’s wait for him, scarf pulled up to warm her ears, her bright blue polka-dot umbrella over-head sheltering her from the storm. 

“You came,” She can’t help the heavy sigh of relief, as he sits next to her, as close as they can with their rain gear. He watches as she lowers her umbrella, folding it down in favour of sliding to sit under his. Metaphor? 

“How did you know I’d make it before midnight, Cinderella?” He finally lets himself speak, his eyes not leaving hers. 

“I didn’t. I was really just banking on you being a quick reader,” the pleased look that flooded her face at her own joke, gives way to to a melancholy half-smirk. Her eyes welling up when she says, “Please say something”.

He’s not sure what to say. What words could he possibly scape together to explain the chaos that’s struck his system. He wants to tell her everything, bare his soul, but on this rare occasion in his life he finds he’s unable to think of a single line. No joke, no quote, or piece of advice could come close to encapsulating the multitudes he’s feeling, so, realizing the urge he’s been pushing down for months now, he settles for, “Would you mind if I kissed you?”  

“I think I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” her reply comes quick with a burst of watery laughter, “This is my big rom-com moment”. “I think you mean our big rom-com moment,” his playful correction is followed by a kiss when they both lean in. 

The pull away from eachother only in the interest of getting her warmed up. Her hand is freezing in his as they walk side by side, 

“It’s a little bit Casablanca of us, with the rain and all”. 

“Humphrey Bogart. Ingrid Bergman. Unmatched… though I have to say I hope our ending is a little less bittersweet than theirs,” he lets go of her hand only to wrap an arm around her, tucking her closer to his side. “We’ll always have Richmond,” She feigns a wistful sigh. “We’ll always have Richmond,” he quotes back. 

[redahlia-writes]

for the write poll tag game, won by the roy kent wip (dear god what have i done)

this fic was born out of me knowing jack shit about football, so watching ted lasso was an experience. but also roy kent <33 and i thought of playing a little bit on that (transl. i was being self-indulgent)

i've never written for him before so the characterization feels a bit off, and it is a wip in its very early stages, coming directly from my notes app so be kind please. also i'm not 100% sure i counted the votes right (i failed maths three times let me be)

“no! i mean—i didn't mean you, i'm sorry,” she said, alarmed, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “i wasn't calling you an asshole. i was calling him an asshole—sorry.” “you said that already,” he mused, and watched her press her lips together in a harsh line, as if keeping the next 'sorry' trapped between her teeth.

“that was a first date? jesus.” “charming, right?”

“ah, shit. love's gonna kill me.” “what?” “uh, nothing. well—my friend lent me this dress,” he looked at her, still puzzled. “her name's love. she actually set this up, thought it'd be funny if i could say 'love brought us together'.”

“good. well, it was nice meeting you, but i'm exhausted—i'll see you tomorrow,” she pointed in roy’s direction, a mock warning tone. “sure,” he sighed. “bye, keely.” as she walked away, roy saw her turn around and, from behind the woman's shoulder, give him two thumbs up and a wide grin. he scoffed.

“so, where are you from?” “well, huh, not here.” “are you fucking with me?” “sorry,” she laughed this time, leaning a little bit closer with the ripple of it. “it's just—i don't know- it's stupid. i'm always extra cautious during first dates with what i say about me,” her eyes widened then, quickly glancing at him. “not that—i mean this isn't—fucking hell.” “it could be,” he shrugged.

“well, i better get—” “can i get your number?” roy asked, hands stuffed in his pockets. she was already turning away from him with a smile, and stopped mid-step. “i thought i'd ask.”

“roy kent? like the footballer?” she asked, looking at her phone screen. “i—sure. that.” he chuckled, and a pout took over her lips. “why are you laughing? is that not his name?” “no, no, you're right. just—didn't realize how much you're not from here.”

good, he typed. and then: do you want to go on an actual date? - depends. know any decent place with actually very good food? that is very specific. - i don't like fancy places, but i do enjoy a good meal alright then. i can cook for you. - oh, so you're a serial killer and i'm your next victim you asked for a good meal. - you own a restaurant? no, but i own a house. - see? serial killer. inviting me to your place on the first date. technically second. he hurried to add the next text. would you prefer yours? - god no, this place won't fit both of us, let alone the good meal you're promising roy let his fingers hover over the screen as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared. - alright then. but i will send love your address in case she doesn't hear from me after a couple of days now i know my time limit to make your body disappear. - dang it. a pause. oh, well. i'll take that risk.

“i don’t know the first thing about football, never learned.” “but you know roy kent?” “are you kidding me? you can’t take a walk without hearing that chant—real catchy, actually.”

“you enjoyed me making a complete ass of myself, didn't you?” “no, actually. it was nice to be just roy.”

“i never know when women are attracted to me because of me or because i'm me.” “who said anything about attraction?” she scoffed in mock offence, turning her head towards the other side. roy shifted closer, his chin pressing onto her shoulder. “your clothes are scattered around my living room,” he murmured, and saw at the corner of his eye her mouth split in a bashful grin. “i’m willing to bet you don't find me utterly repulsing.”

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Spartan Olympia Vale!

Today is her -512th birthday!

Vale was the daughter of Nerina and Caleb Vale. Nerina was a decorated member of the UNSC Navy, and her father was a slipspace technician and a staunch pacifist. Unbeknownst to Olympia, Caleb was selected to be part of the SPARTAN-II program, but was able to evade his kidnappers, possibly influencing his anti-war outlook.

When she was a child, her parents divorced and she was kept in her mother's custody. While en route to Earth after her mother was reassigned to UNSC High Command in Sydney, their ship's slipspace drive failed, turning the six-day trip into a six-month trip. Vale, a child prodigy in her own right, busied herself by learning the Sangheili language using the resources provided by the shipboard AI. She became so proficient that she was able to correct the AI's mistranslations.

Vale graduated Sydney University and enlisted in the UNSC. Nerina died during the Battle for Earth, and when Vale attempted to contact her father to tell him, she discovered that he had actually used an alias during her life and that he had "refused conscription" in 2517. When Vale went to ONI for answers, she received a cryptic warning to stop inquiring. Undeterred, she took to other means to find him and discovered his true identity, though not his location.

After the war, she explored the Sangheili colony Khael'mothka, where she developed an understanding and appreciation for Sangheili culture. This experience led to her placement on a dual UNSC-Swords of Sanghelios mission to the Ark as a xenoanthropoligist and human-Sangheili liaison. The mission was initiated because of a signal emitting from the Ark which suggested that the Halo array was going to be activated. When they got there, they were attacked by hostile wildlife, and Vale was overcome by a compulsion to follow a chaefka away from the battle. Now missing, the team split up to find her. She was led to a Forerunner structure where she was then held hostage by Tragic Solitude, the monitor of the Ark. Solitude had become rampant and developed a hatred for the galaxy and particularly humanity for the destruction on the Ark. Vale tried to reason with the moniter, but ultimately it was destroyed by the rest of her team, who were able to stop the array's activation. Although the mission was a success, Vale questioned her usefulness due to her inability to convince Tragic Solitude not to activate the Halo array. She was consoled by Sangheili Usze 'Taham, who accompanied her on the mission and with whom she developed a mutual respect.

Due to the skills she displayed during the mission to the Ark, Vale was invited to join the SPARTAN-IV program. She participated in multiple campaigns and operations before she was assigned as a member of Fireteam Osiris. She participated in the requisition of Dr. Halsey, who had escaped captivity by the UNSC by joining Jul 'Mdama in his search for the Janus Key. Osiris located and assassinated Jul, taking Halsey with them. Vale then joined Osiris in their search for Blue Team, who were absent without leave in their search for Cortana. While they found Blue Team, they were unable to apprehend them and were then deployed to Sanghelios to aide Arbiter Thel 'Vadam in eliminating 'Mdama's remaining forces.

Osiris used a Guardian to locate Blue Team, where they all learned of the threat of Cortana and the Created. Vale was reassigned to be stationed on Sanghelios as both an advisor to the Arbiter and eyes and ears for ONI. She was secretly visited by xenoarchaeologist Keely Iyuska, who gave Vale a tip about a planet called Netherop that was said to possess technology that could destroy a Guardian. Vale got approval by the UNSC to travel to Netherop, only to discover that Thel 'Vadam and his forces had received similar information and had already left for Netherop.

There, Vale discovered the marooned UNSC forces who were still waging war with the Sangheili presence on the planet. Caught between peace between humans and Sangheili and their loyalty to their respective species, Vale and 'Vadam agreed that they would assist each other to a point, and then whoever got to the technology first would keep it. They fought their way into the structure, where they witnessed the devastating destruction that the Guardian-killing weapon was capable of. Ultimately, she and 'Vadam agreed that neither the UNSC nor Swords of Sanghelios should have access to such a destructive weapon and rendered it unusable.

In canon (~2560), she is turning 24!

[bloodyshadow1]

I really hate the way they write the whole Keely and Jack relationship.  it would be one thing if Jack was an actual character on the show, it would show that she has flaws that she has to overcome, like Rebecca, Jaime, nate, or even Colin, but she’s not.  She’s Keeley’s love interest, and pretty clear she was a temporary one at that. she’s a plot device, she’s something more than someone for Keeley to interact with to give her character something to do this season.

rant under the cut

People say it’s because she’s classicist not x or y, or you can’t trust billionaires, and I agree in real life.  everything about Jack as a character/love interest/plot device, is something created by the writers for her.  Alright there isn’t a single lower class reoccurring character in the whole freaking show, everyone is either rich or the minority is middle class, not billionaire but millionaire or multi-millionaire.  Rebecca is a woman who comes from money, married rich, and is still rich.  The writers could have made Jack easily Rebecca’s level of wealth and nothing would change, but they chose to make her a billionaire so that people would perceive her differently, as a Rupert clone.

And honestly, even all of that wouldn’t bother me so much, if I didn’t truly believe that Keeley isn’t just going to end up with a guy at the end of the season.  Probably Jaime or Roy, I’m leaning more towards Jaime since that seems to be foreshadowed this season, but I’d bet a decent amount of money it’s one of them. 

I’m just really bitter about the treatment of sapphics in tv lately so maybe I’m extra sensitive.  If the show is good at showing their relationships it’s cancelled. Or the show has it for one season and then break them up without actually dealing with relationships, or the best possible outcome is that it is just subtext and for a dozen or so seasons on the shows that don’t get cancelled. 

I dont’ know, maybe the writers will surprise me, but I’m not faithful.  Every other issue or topic in the show is treated with such care for the most part, Colin being gay, Ted’s mental health issues, Sam being a black immigrant in Britain, Jaime’s abusive upbringing. They drop the ball every now and then, but there’s a respect to it.  but I don’t see any of that in Keeley’s relationship with Jack.  They made her fine in the beginning and now are setting up honestly poorly written red flags to show why their relationship is doomed to fail so they can have her get back with whoever they’re going to stick her with in the finale.  If I’m wrong I’ll apologize, but that remains to be seen

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Round 2 is over! Let's recap:

A Bracket, Day One: Easy Pete crushed Santiago's post-presidential assassination aspirations in a landslide; Red Lucy avenged Maj. Elizabeth Kieran's incredibly close Round 1 loss by similarly crushing the poll's most pathetic man, Beagle, in a victory for feminism; Old Ben climbed further in the ranks with a close win over Manny Vargas*; and Ranger Ghost sailed into Round 3 over Tommy Torini.

A Bracket, Day Two: Heartthrob Harland desecrated Pvt. Kowalski in the round's first of several dramatic upsets; the #TRASHSWEEP continued well apace by laying waste to Pacer; Swank and his big ol' eyes saw a win over old Ranger Andy; and the love for 10 of Spades carried him to victory over his fellow NCR soldier Maj. Knight*.

A Bracket, Day Three: The Hadrian Gang unfortunately could not survive against the high-seed monster, Fantastic; Rotface gave Boxcars a tip: get eliminated from the tournament; the Garret Twins made a smear on the sidewalk out of bubbly Brotherhood initiate Melissa Watkins; and Ignacio Rivas's* good nature wasn't enough to take down Trudy from Goodsprings.

A Bracket, Day Four: Fan-favorite Keely utterly crucified houndmaster Antony, which has knocked every member of Caesar's Legion who isn't a slave from the tournament completely; Mr. RADical successfully just laid there while Jimmy* from Casa Madrid couldn't impress; Regis from the Great Khans just barely eked out the W to make Cliff Briscoe extinct; and Mick & Ralph pulled an overnight upset against Old Lady Gibson to punch their ticket.

B Bracket, Day One: Daisy Whitman blew up Raquel; Ringo wrecked Ramos; preliminary fave Angela Williams pulled off an astonishing upset against number two seed Oliver Swanick; and Allen Marks' victory over Crandon & Jules goes to show that the corpses keep winning.

B Bracket, Day Two: Beatrix Russell ate Chomps Lewis; Emily Ortal left Pvt. Kyle Edwards in the radioactive dust; The Lonesome Drifter drifted easily into Round 3 over Michael Angelo & Kate; and Siri beat Malcolm Holmes but not without a surprising amount of turnout for the cap-collecting good samaritan.

B Bracket, Day Three: No-Bark Noonan opened up the all-Khans bracket by kicking Oscar Velasco out of the tournament; Jessup & McMurphy successfully defeated a frail and sickly child; Melissa Lewis succeeded where her father had failed the day before with a victory over Cannibal Johnson; Doctor Usanagi proves that STEM is more valuable than an English degree by giving Jerry the Punk another beating.

B Bracket, Day Four: Big Beard & Little Beard trounce the Gundersons, probably because Heck was the only one with a beard; Chris Haversam throws Meyers back in the clink; Mister Holdout couldn't hold out against Sarah Weintraub; and finally, in the single most massive (624 votes) and close (tied as late midnight with 500 votes) and polarizing (just check the notes) match-up in the entire tournament so far, Calamity the ghoul pulled an upset over Cpl. Betsy*, who's probably dealing with her loss in therapy. Hopefully Dr. Usanagi doesn't bring up her own win.

*Happy Pride Month, losers! The first round of June and literally every canonically queer character (except for Red Lucy, bisexual [edit: and Sarah Weintraub, also bisexual!]) got voted out, and that's hilarious. Funniest possible thing that could have happened on here, the gay and transgender website, during the gay and transgender month, in a tournament for the gay and transgender video game. (Beatrix Russell and Old Ben might also be exceptions, but it's minor; I only can't remember if you can sleep with them as the same sex or not when they're working at the Atomic Wrangler, but even then they may just be gay4pay. Not that there's anything wrong with that!)

You can see all of the Round 2 polls here, and the tournament bracket has been updated so that you can get a preview of the matches yet to come in Round 3. Voting will pause for a bit while I prepare graphics and bracket posts, so use this downtime to mourn the fallen, celebrate the risen, and submit designated cheerleader endorsements for your favorite remaining characters in their upcoming rounds. It's only going to get more tense from here!