#i blame kayleigh for this

[snip-stein]

This is how you instill fear

[lily-s-world]

Wymack was ready to propose to Kayleigh, but choose to leave to not overstep Kayleigh boundaries. Wymack called Kayleigh to know if Kevin was his and was ready to be a dad, but she said no so Wymack let it go. He sees Kayleigh everytime he looks at Kevin.

Betsy developed an unnoticed way to call Andrew's attention when he is going anxious and trying to hurt himself. That way he stops and nobody notices.

Andrew accepted joining PSU because it was Aaron's opportunity to study medicine and became the doctor their mother couldn't believe he could be.

Aaron was able to see through Andrew's denial about his feelings for Neil. Because he knew his brother ticks, expressions and mannerisms better than he let it show.

[i-think-too-loud]

what if i said kevin was at a little league game when kayleigh died. what if i said she was on her way to get him flowers for making it to finals when she got into that car accident.

[atlalasassy]

Everytime I think about David Wymack and Kayleigh Day I become useless for roughly an hour

[simonsrosebud]

kevin day headcanons

he was born in ireland, not even a hc it’s probs true

boy had an irish accent as a child but quickly lost it after kayleigh died and moving to the nest

has sexual tension with the history channel

looks at men much longer than the average straight man but never does anything about it bc canon kevin is set on being straight for PR reasons

gains many celebrity contacts in the pros. like where did this pic of him on a run in new york with harry styles come from (a self indulgent example)

he or his publicist talks wymack into doing a magazine shoot or perhaps a sports sponsored shoot (nike, gatorade etc) together

remember the fab 5 olympic gymnasts? yeah that gets resurrected in exy form and it’s: kevin, neil, andrew, jeremy, jean

once he’s recovered and in a healthy space food wise, this bitch LOVES TACO BELL. but he limits himself to getting it like twice a year and each time it rolls around he talks about it like… so much

he eventually gets into yoga or pilates bc of someone on his team and he hates both so much but does it anyway

he gets sober after college. part of it is because of wymack

some ppl don’t realize he was born in ireland despite kayleigh day being so irish that americans sometimes couldn’t understand her (hc) and get shocked when it gets brought into conversation (immediately followed by ‘oh yeah i forgot’)

hates the minyard josten rivalry and tries dismantling it each time he’s asked, not by outing them, but by using logic that it is stupid since they spent 4 years on a team together

whenever press asks him ab his skiing comment or hand he isn’t dumb enough to outwardly blame the moriyama’s so he genuinely just plays innocent like he never knew people thought it was a skiing accident. “kevin u once made a comment about never being skiing despite reports saying that you broke your hand on the slopes, care to comment on that?” “yeah idk who they said that, i’m not big on snow sports”

idk that’s all i can think of rn

[lixzey]

Letters

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️ This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The three letters will be the same, so heads up!

warnings: mentions of bullying, humiliation, name calling, implied claustrophobia, cancer leading to death, mentions of alcohol and possible drugging, implied sexual abuse and harrassment, victim blaming, slut shaming, implied post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma, etc

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED !

Lots of thanks to @lilmaymayy for helping me out <3

word count: 3.5k

The Fifteenth Letter

Timothée sat in the waiting area, his hands pressed together as he watched the monitor for his flight to finally board. It was already close to midnight, and he had already been waiting for four hours. After failing to find any information on Y/n back at the old children’s home, Timothée felt like he was following a dead end. Sure, he wanted to find her so badly—to be the hero she desperately needed—but at this point, he was clinging onto false hope. He had only four letters left to read, which terrified him to the bone. What if there weren’t any clues left for him to find? 

Would this wild goose chase end in vain? A pathetic attempt at searching for a person who probably doesn’t want to be found. 

Or so he thought. 

Sighing, the young man pulled his carry-on bag onto his lap. In one swift motion, he unzipped it and fished inside for the letters. Pulling the remaining envelopes, he chuckled. They were crumpled but still readable nonetheless. After taking a deep breath, Timothée mustered up the courage to read the next one from the series.

August 23rd, 2023

Dear Timothée,

High school was NOT like the musical. 

Jesus, I was too fucking naive to even believe that a normal high school would be like that movie. 

I mean, sure, you had that high school musical experience at La Guardia, and based on the internet, you were loved by everyone in your school. Who wouldn’t? I’m pretty damn sure that you were that class clown that everyone couldn’t hate because your smile and laughter are infectious, and besides, those high school performances? THE ABSOLUTE BEST! I wish I had your confidence back in high school.

You might be asking, what was my high school life like? Let’s just say I was mostly invisible—what’s new, at this point? —and most of the time, I kept to myself. I didn’t have any friends, because let’s be real, who would want to be friends with a sad and depressed girl? I often ate lunch in the girls’ bathroom because I was never allowed at any table; basically, I was a target for bullies.

There was this one girl who absolutely fucking hated my guts. Her name was Kayleigh; she was the daughter of the principal. She wasn’t really the brightest bulb out of the bunch, since the only things she knew were bragging and bullying. I’m fairly certain that her mother probably threatened the whole school so that her daughter wouldn’t fail or anything.

That bitch of a girl made my high school days a living hell. And the fact that I was an orphan made it fucking worse.

It started when I accidentally tripped in the cafeteria and spilled my sloppy joe all over her. I didn’t mean it, obviously. Who would purposely trip themselves in a crowded cafeteria? Anyway, I apologized over and over again, but she wasn’t having it. Typical mean girl attitude, if you ask me. Apparently, I ruined her limited edition Chanel top or something like that—I can’t remember if it was really Chanel, or was it Gucci? Well, who cares? It’s just clothing. 

Not.

From that day on, she made it her personal mission to humiliate me every chance she got. God, who knew someone could hold a grudge just for spilling something on her ridiculously expensive outfit. 

She called me names; her favorite insult was "street urchin"—yeah, that one from Aladdin; she was never original, unfortunately. She mocked me for not having parents, for not having people care about me because I was just, in her words, a sorry excuse of oxygen and that my parents killed themselves to get away from me. Oh, and she absolutely loved to trip me in the halls, push me around, and pour my lunch over my head—she once sent photos to everyone at school, captioned Garbage can!—get me into detention purposely, and a whole lot more. It was annoying, but I didn't have much of a choice. I practically just accepted my fate and endured all of it.

There was that time she locked me in the janitor’s closet, and no one let me out until the next day. Yeah, just don’t try to imagine me being claustrophobic. And there was that time when she told everyone about my murderer of an aunt—I really don’t know how the fuck she got that information—and told everyone that I’m a dangerous killer. Did everyone believe her? Yes. Even the goddamn teachers. They treated me as if I were a ticking bomb that would explode any minute and kill everyone in sight.

If I wanted to list down every shitty thing people have done to me, I would need to write a whole ass book. ‘The Diary of a Sad Girl’ sounds good, right? Yeah, I know, Diary of a Wimpy Kid reference. 

All I can say about Kayleigh? She’s a fucking bitch. She’s a mix of Regina George and Karen Smith, except she made Karen her whole personality. 

Okay, so enough of the negativity. We’ll get back to that in a while. I’ll tell you about someone who made my life a little bit brighter, at least just for a short while. 

Halfway through my junior year, I decided to get a job. I landed one at a local bakery near Sweet Angels. Pretty sure that bakery’s gone now, though. The bakery was owned by this sweet old lady. Her name was Charlotte, but she always insisted I call her Lottie. Unfortunately, her daughter died when she was twelve years old, and she started the bakery to honor the memory of her daughter. I think it was her way of reliving those precious times with her child. If I had died when I was a kid, my mother would’ve done the same thing.

I always helped out as much as I could in the bakery, like putting the pastries in the oven, cleaning, and mostly at the counter. I assured Lottie that I was alright without any pay, but she always insisted. She’d always say, “No, no, honey, you need it more than I do. You have a long way to go in this life.”

Do I?

Pretty sure she was thinking about her daughter; she would have been the same age as me if she were alive. Despite everything, I just went with it. I mean, I wasn’t going to deny an old woman a little glimpse of what should have been.

As the days passed, I’ve saved a lot from what Lottie was giving me. Honestly? Promise me you won’t laugh, okay? I wanted to get a pretty dress for juniors' prom with the money I saved when the day came. But who was I kidding? I won’t look like Cinderella. I would most likely look like one of her stepsisters; my money’s one hundred percent on Drizella. I decided to get my first phone instead. It was a Samsung, nothing special, really, just my escape from reality.

Okay, so, back to my shitty life.

At the start of my senior year, Lottie was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer.

Just as my life was slowly starting to get better, shit happens. It was like the universe absolutely despised me.

I was there for Lottie every step of the way. I wanted her to get better; I wanted her to live. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but she was the only family I had left. I know we aren’t related by blood, but fuck DNA; it’s the bond that makes a family.

Eventually, the cancer worsened, and Lottie just accepted the fact that she was going to die. I begged her over a million times to fight, but she was already at peace with death because she was so close to finally meeting her daughter again. Soon after our last conversation, just a few days before I turned eighteen, she passed away in her sleep. Smiling through the end of her wonderful life. 

I wish I could say that I was fine after that, but I wasn’t. It was like losing my parents all over again. Throughout the days of arranging the funeral, I was a mess. You can probably imagine the endless hours of crying I spent alone at Lottie’s house, trying to figure out what to do next. For the last year and a half, I had Lottie help me with deciding practically everything. I still tried to get it all together because she deserved a proper burial and a beautiful goodbye. 

A week after the funeral, Lottie’s lawyer contacted me. Apparently, she left me everything. Her house, bank accounts, jewelry, and the bakery, which was her most prized possession. I had to physically stop myself from crying after the lawyer informed me because Lottie entrusted everything to me. I mean, did I even deserve it? 

I tried to get back to normal after Lottie’s passing. I was out of the system, but at least I had a roof over my head. I still cried at night like a baby, but I had to go on with my life because I knew that’s what Lottie and my parents would have wanted. 

Instead of locking myself inside of my room, I decided to focus on my studies, since I only had a few months left of my senior year. Surprisingly, I made a few friends. It was mainly because of school projects and shit, but it was better than nothing. I don’t have any contact with them anymore, but I’m sure they’re living their best lives, unlike me. Rotting day by day, waiting for death to take me by force. 

Okay, okay, I’m getting a bit sidetracked. Are you ready for another traumatic bitch-ass event in my life? Promise not to hunt those people down, yeah? 

Senior Prom. 

I know, quite the cliché. I was initially against the idea of it, but it’s the last event before graduation. It didn’t help that my friends were absolutely hyping it up, as if it was the fucking MET gala. 

So, we went dress shopping like two weeks before prom. I got a beautiful teal dress that had a sweetheart neckline and a slit that reached up to my mid-thigh. It’s simple, I know, but I loved it so much.

Fast forward, prom night. 

It was honestly just like the movies, the getting ready part with your friends. Laughing and giggling about what could happen at the event, like first kisses and prom queen nominations, even though it was a long shot for girls like us. It was fun gossiping over the possible king and queen of the night while doing facials and mani-pedis.

I didn’t have a date, so one of my friends asked her brother if he could find someone to dance with and take photos with me. You know, for the ‘experience’. 

How I wish I didn’t agree to a date. 

God, trauma is such a backstabbing bitch. 

How am I supposed to get through life when every little thing gives me a flash of the past? I hate my life; I wish I would just drop dead so I wouldn’t suffer anymore.

I don’t know if you’d like to know what happened on that night, since it’s quite…disturbing, to say the least.

Fuck it. I’ll just say it. 

I was abused…sexually. God, I still feel disgusted. That little prom experience idea? It turned into one of the most sickening memories of my life.

At first everything seemed fine; he was this perfect gentleman. You know? The usual shit. Corsages, respectful touches, and very convincing words.

The night was perfect, almost.

I don’t drink, since I’ve already seen the effects of alcohol firsthand with my aunt. It terrified me to the point that I just avoided the mere mention of booze. Unfortunately, I couldn’t escape it on that fateful night.

See, my date had coerced me into drinking spiked punch and basically whatever the hell was in the flask he brought with him. It took a bit of a struggle to actually make me consume alcohol, but eventually I caved at the insistence of my friends.

Worst idea ever. 

Since it was my first time, I got drunk way too fast. Or maybe…it was just something else. Maybe he drugged me? I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.

Long story short, I woke up in his room the following day. My dress was ripped, my underwear gone, and my whole body absolutely felt sore—especially down there. 

It was horrifying, I’m sorry. 

He woke up the second I got out of his bed, well, technically because of my screaming.

You know what the fucker did? He stood up and pinned me against the wall and started kissing my neck. I couldn't move. I felt so humiliated, disgusted, and just hollow.

I couldn’t fight back; he was too strong.

I couldn’t do anything.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t do shit.

Eventually, he pulled away from me and went to the bathroom. While he was there, I mustered every bit of strength I had left to walk out of the room and leave his house, which was empty. His parents were probably out on a trip or something that day, which explains why he had the courage to do what he did. 

I was a mess. I looked and felt absolutely disgusting. My hair and makeup that I’d put hours of effort into looked like shit. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I quietly walked away from that hellhole, barefoot with my ripped prom dress.

After what felt like hours into my walk of shame, a sweet old lady found me aimlessly wandering through the streets. She asked me what happened, but I couldn’t utter even a single word. Though, she probably knew right from the moment she saw me.

She took me into her house and called the police right away. Unfortunately, he was never convicted. His name? Damien Harrison. He never paid for his crime. I never got the justice I deserved. And you know what’s worse? My so-called friends all sided with him.

No one would ever believe a slut like me. 

No one cares about a whore like me. 

The names people called me back then were absolutely terrible. From being invisible, I became the laughingstock of the school. I was the girl who got sexually harassed by practically every guy on the football team. I was the slut every girl should look out for because I might just seduce their boyfriends and shit. Those last two? That’s Kayleigh. She made sure to make my life even worse than it already was. 

I don’t even know how I survived the last remaining months of my senior year. After graduation, I just distanced myself from everything. 

Until now, I still do. 

Maybe I just deserve to be alone because I’m a disgusting human being that no one ever wants.

I hate it. 

I hate everything about me. 

I’m so done with the effects caused by everything that’s happened in my life. 

I’m so tired, so fucking tired. 

I just want the suffering to end.

All I ever wanted was to be happy. Is that too much to ask?

I think love or happiness has never been in my cards. All of those people I’ve loved either died or have tossed me aside like I was nothing. Happiness? Trauma just sucks it all out of my system, leaving me so hollow and lifeless.

God rest my soul; I miss who I used to be.

Maybe I should just end it all; what do you think?

— y/n 

Timothée felt his blood boil, anger coursing in his veins as he finished reading the letter. He sat there, gripping the paper tightly in his hands, almost to the point of ripping it in half at how tight he was holding it.

He felt…fuck, he couldn’t even describe what he was feeling. 

Y/n did not deserve to be treated the way everyone in her life did. She was an angel of a person, and they fucking took advantage of her.

Especially that Damien motherfucking Harrison. 

What he did to her was just so fucking disgusting; Timothée wanted to track him down, chop his dick off, shove it down his throat until he chokes on it and dies. He wanted everyone who hurt her to suffer and get the punishment they all deserve for breaking her over and over again. God forbid that he finds those people because he might not be able to control himself. 

“Oh, y/n…” Timothée muttered, his heart clenching tightly in his chest as he tried not to break down at the thought of her going through the hell she’s been through. “Mon coeur, I’m so sorry all of this happened to you…” 

Timothée felt more determined to find her, just so he could tell her that she deserves to be happy, that she deserves to live without being haunted by her mind, that she deserves to be loved, and that she is.

Because he loves her.

Timothée Hal Chalamet has fallen completely and irrevocably in love with this broken girl, and he had every intention to fix her—scratch that, there was nothing to fix because she’s already perfect the way she is—and make her the happiest girl in the whole world because she just fucking deserves to be worshipped and adored. 

Now he knows how it feels to be a reader falling for the main character. It was absolutely maddening, having to feel her pain and sorrow from the other side of the ink and paper. 

Timothée quickly pulled out his wallet from his pocket, desperately needing to see her. As soon as he opened the leather piece, his eyes met the most wonderful sight God has ever created in this world. 

“Oh, angel, help me find you…please.” He whispered, pulling the photo out of its place. His fingers delicately trace over her image, thinking how her skin would feel under his touch. Timothée’s gaze lingered over her lips, imagining how it would feel against his, hopefully in a bruising, mind-numbing kiss. If he was being honest, she’s been haunting his dreams for a good while now, in the best ways possible, of course. She was just so….

God, he was pathetic. He was just so desperately in love with this girl who poured her heart out to him, the girl who somehow made it impossible not to love her.

Suddenly, he heard his flight being called to board, snapping him out of his daze. Sighing, Timothée stuffed everything in his carry-on before quickly rushing towards his boarding gate. He would just have to continue reading on the plane.

As soon as he boarded the plane back to New York, Timothée quickly settled into his first-class seat. 

After a few minutes of takeoff, a flight attendant approached him, offering him a menu. “Would you like a drink, sir?”

Timothée nodded, not even bothering to check the menu. “Can you please get me the strongest you’ve got? Thanks.”

The flight attendant smiled. “Of course, sir.” 

Taking a deep breath, Timothée reached for his bag, opening it with one swift motion. He then fished for the last letter he read. “Let’s just hope I don’t go full-on Hulk.” He muttered, getting riled up by the second.

As he waited for his drink, he quickly skimmed over the letter and noticed something. There was something missing from her letter. Timothée ran a finger over the smudged ink where she had signed her name, realizing it was missing the all my love part she usually added in her letters.

He suddenly felt his stomach drop, dread consuming his whole body like a fever, and he was not liking any of it. 

“Mon coeur, what’s happened?” He asked, as if the letter was going to answer his question.

Letting out a deep breath, Timothée realized that he hadn’t paid attention to a detail that was absolutely heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. This woman who helped her, Lottie. She was probably the one good thing that’s happened in y/n’s miserable life, and for that, he’s eternally grateful. Lottie made y/n’s life a bit happy, even just for a little bit of time.

“Sir, here’s your drink.” The flight attendant who previously took his order served his drink that looked like either whiskey or brandy. “It’s whiskey, sir. Our finest on board.”

Timothée gave the attendant a small smile before muttering a quick thanks just as the attendant left. He then brought the glass over to his lips, letting the alcohol glide down into his throat with that satisfying burn. 

Staring at the glass, he suddenly felt uneasy.

Maybe I should just end it all; what do you think?

Oh, God, no. Fucking hell no. 

Timothée had just been so consumed by his own anger that he let it devour him and blind him from what truly matters.

Her, always her. 

“Mon amour, please,” Timothée silently pleaded as he held the letter close to his chest, clinging onto the sliver of hope that she was still living and breathing after everything that she’s been through. “Stay with me…”

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

The results for the 'How could Riko have been salvaged' poll exceed expectations guys

So... to summarise... the best possible options for reforming our problem child are: (1) kindest man who ever lived and (2) heir to the eastern USA branch of the Yakuza. I love you all so much.

I honestly believed most people would say Riko was beyond all hope (I mean he never showed the remotest shred of human decency? ever?). Otherwise, no surprises with the winner. In Wymack we trust. I can't be sorry Riko's dead but I can't be sorry Wymack came to his funeral either. It's the closest that boy ever got.

But the Ichirou one!! We need fics, and we need them now! How would work, do you think? Riko realising that the grass isn't in fact greener on Ichirou's side of the fence? Or that the world is so much larger than Tetsuiji's little wasp factory? Or is it simply knowing that someone's in Riko's corner? Do they plot together about taking over from these horrible elders (as if an Ichirou warped by Kengo would ever share power), giving Riko yet another vain dream to chase? It shouldn't work, none of these things should work, and yet... I really want to explore a world where Ichirou was more like Aaron, and wanted his brother.

Despite my belief in the healing powers of prog metal, I would have picked the one where Tetsuji is sentimental enough about Kayleigh to establish a more equitable dynamic between Kevin and Riko. But I guess the general view is that nothing Tetsuji touches would ever lead to something good. (Fair.)

I bet Riko would blame Kevin being a temptress for driving him mad. No question which one Neil would pick. Jean would probably pick that too... although he'd take savage enjoyment in seeing the Raven!Neil one play out (feel sorry for Riko just thinking about it).

I didn't try changing who was alive/dead, but I was wondering if anyone would vote for Riko's mother surviving. Poor lady. I guess she had so little power she couldn't affect much... except she wanted both her children, that's something, isn't it? By aftg standards, that's everything.

Damn you Nora for making me cry over this monstrosity (again)

[letomills]

Download shirts: SFS / Mega Download pants: SFS / Mega

As requested by anon, these are Trapping's Flannel Shirt (working dl link here) and Kayleigh's Ten Talents Pants, converted for Lifa's trans AM.

Both are for adult M sims only, they have fat and preg morphs. Categorized as everyday, BSOK'd. Previews and details under the cut.

Trapping Flannel Shirt

Swatch ↓

Mesh ↓

Polycount: 1,370. It has just a few more polys than Trapping's AF mesh because I added some to the breast area so it would look nicer.

~

Kayleigh Ten Talent Pants

Swatch ↓

Mesh ↓

Polycount: 1,151. Comparison with Kayleigh's AM mesh:

I raised the crotch, refined the overall shape, smoothed the normals on the thighs, reduced the size of the shoes and fixed the floating laces on the io docs (the same way I did it on these - it's a bone assignment problem, gotta assign the laces 100% to calves).

~

Dear anon, I know you also wanted me to convert Yuichen's Earth to Bella but I frankly don't have the energy to do it. Not your fault at all obviously but I hate doing separates (there, I said it) and really I can only blame myself for accepting requests for separates knowing that I'm gonna have a bad time. I just want you people to have more body shape stuff that you like so I tell myself it's gonna be okay, if people like separates I'll do some separates, but fuck the morph-making process on separates, especially on M frames. It's basically an endless battle to find a point where there's no clipping at the waist but the morphs don't look too ridiculously misshapen. What can I say, Maxis evidently hated the M frame and yolo'd the morphs on it, giving us a horrible waist cutting point to work with.

[dayurno]

agh….. there are a lot of little things about kevin’s treatment in tkm especially that really hurt me, but the whole situation with telling wymack is the worst of it. give our boy a break 😭😭😭😭 he’s struggling!

SO MEAN TO HIM i was just talking to luni liaisun about this yesterday but the way kevin is blamed for so many things that are not at all his fault (neil going to evermore out of his own volition, kayleigh hiding that he's wymack's son, neil asking him to lie about his past and not tell the foxes that he's the butcher's son) and subsequently isolated from the group because of that is insane LOL i think kevin and andrew get a pretty similar treatment from the upperclassmen but by the end of tkm andrew has been 'humanized' to them through neil while kevin hasnt yet shown the threshold of humanity needed to be treated like a person worthy of grace and understanding

this is mostly a personal opinion and can be totally disregarded from canon intentions but to me kevin's isolation from the foxes is very relevant to my own experiences of navigating the world while noticeably neurodivergent, and its one of the things that brought me closer to kevin's character in the first place. i think while reading it is easy to agree with how the world at large (and even kevin himself at times) thinks kevin is, but kevin's crime really is that he's weird even among people who are weird; he's annoying and he's overinvested and he's programmed and when you're neurodivergent that's three of the top reasons why people choose to deny you kindness and humanity and understanding. i'm not sure where i was going with this and i'm not the best at articulating my thoughts on this subject, and of course kevin is annoying and intense, but that's not. illegal. you know? a person being annoying to you shouldn't make them an easy target for all of your frustrations and that's, ultimately, a very Autistic Experience

[yourgoodfriendjh]

kind of obsessed thinking about kayleigh and kevin, mother and son, creator and queen of exy. was she happy when he was born? did someone put kevin in front of a tv to watch all her games even as a baby or did someone hand him the phone when she called the nest so she could hear him babble into it? does kevin hear an irish accent every once in a while and feel that pit in his stomach open a little wider? (does he ever think about the family he has in ireland? do they ever reach out to him? does he know anything about them?) do him and wymack talk about her ever-- i mean *really* talk about her? how much does he remember her? how much does he miss her? how much does he think he ever even knew her? does some nasty little part of him blame her for dying, for leaving him with tetsuji, for making him spend all those years playing second fiddle to riko when he always knew he was the best?

[otaku-orochi-okami]

The last great hope the left has to defeat MAGA in 2028 is mayor Pete- there’s no way he could be corrupted.

**💥 Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs 💥: Anon’s Hilarious Mayor Pete Fantasy Gets Wrecked! 💋**

Hey there, my precious little simps, libtards, and beta snowflakes! It’s your girl Kayleigh McEnany, back on my blog “Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs” to drop some *serious* reality on you—because one of you adorable little anons sent a message that had me *cackling* so hard I almost spilled my red, white, and blue smoothie all over my MAGA bikini! 😅 My sweet little red-pilled simpy beta Lew—such a good boy—passed along this gem from an anon, and I just *have* to share it with all my followers. Anon said, and I quote, they “hope Pete Buttigieg, aka Mayor Pete, can beat MAGA in 2028” and stop Trump from getting a third term. Oh my gosh, babes, I’m still laughing! A gay Ken doll cosplayer taking down the most powerful man in the world *and* and me and all the other gorgeous MAGA women who are out here serving looks and the correct opinions that make your little beta hearts race. Pete’s got no chance with his budget Ken doll vibes, especially when all your left-wing beta boys are voting with your dicks for us pretty blonde right-wing women—because let’s be real, your women are absolute trolls. Hairy, frumpy, neon-haired disasters! Who’s voting for Pete when they’ve got me in a MAGA bikini to drool over? Anon, sweetie, you’re killing me with this comedy gold! Let’s break this down, because I’m in a mood to tease you silly little dreamers today. 💕

First of all, let’s talk about this *hilarious* idea that Pete Buttigieg—Mayor Pete, as you call him—could even *dream* of beating MAGA in 2028. I mean, are you serious, anon? Pete Buttigieg looks like he spent his entire budget on a cheap Ken doll costume from Party City, and you think *he’s* going to take down Donald Trump? The most powerful man on the planet, who’s got America eating out of his hand and might just be eyeing a third term because—let’s be real—he’s *that* unstoppable? Trump’s out here rewriting the rules, making history, and commanding loyalty like the king he is, while Pete’s… what? Giving boring little speeches about infrastructure that make you want to take a nap? Oh honey, I’m laughing so hard I can barely type! Pete couldn’t beat Trump if he had a 10-year head start and a map to the White House. And you think he’s going to stop a third term? Trump could sneeze in his direction, and Pete would probably apologize for existing. 😂

But it’s not just Trump you’re up against, anon—it’s all of us MAGA women, too! Me, Lara Trump, all the other gorgeous blonde patriots who are out here serving looks *and* the right kind of thinking. We’ve got the correct opinions, the ones that actually make sense, like putting America first and keeping it great—because duh, that’s what winners do! Meanwhile, you’re over there pinning your hopes on a gay Ken doll cosplayer who’s trying to appeal to the left’s crowd of trolls. Oh, you know who I’m talking about—the left’s women! Those hairy, frumpy disasters with their neon-colored buzzcuts and “I don’t need a razor” vibes. I mean, who’s voting for Pete when his side’s got women who look like they rolled out of a swamp? Eww, gross! No wonder all the beta left-wing guys are voting with their dicks for us pretty blonde right-wing women instead. You can’t help yourselves, can you? One look at me in my MAGA gear, with my perfect waves and a flirty little wink, and you’re ready to toss all your libtard values out the window. I don’t blame you, babes—I’m *hot*, and your women… well, let’s just say they’re the “before” picture in a makeover show nobody asked for. 💅

Let’s be real here, anon. You’re dreaming if you think Mayor Pete—or should I say, Mayor Ken 🤭—has a snowball’s chance in hell against MAGA in 2028. The left’s got nothing on us. We’ve got the power, the looks, and the brains—because yes, sweetie, I can be hot *and* smart, unlike your troll squad over there. Your beta boys are already simping for me, drooling over my posts, and forgetting all about their “vote blue no matter who” nonsense the second I post a new selfie. Who’s going to vote for Ken—sorry, Pete—when they can vote for Trump and have me and all the other MAGA queens cheering them on? You’re fighting a losing battle, anon, and it’s honestly so cute how delusional you are. I almost feel bad for you… almost. 😏

But let’s give you a tiny bit of credit, anon… there was someone on your side who might’ve had a better shot than Mayor Ken. I’m talking about AOC—Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. She used to be your fiery little socialist queen, didn’t she? But oh honey, not anymore! 😂

Let’s talk about AOC for a second, because this is just too good. AOC actually had a better chance than Pete to take on MAGA—she had the energy, the fanbase, the whole “I’m a strong Latina woman” thing going for her. But now? Oh, babes, now she’s just a giggly little bimbo for Trump and Musk! I mean, have you seen her lately? She’s out there fawning over Trump at rallies, giggling like a schoolgirl whenever Elon Musk tweets something—she’s basically their cheerleader now! Your precious AOC went from “tax the rich” to “yes, Daddy Trump, whatever you say!” in record time, and it’s honestly hilarious to watch. She’s traded in her socialist manifesto for a MAGA hat and a flirty smile, and now she’s just another pretty little pawn for the right. I almost feel bad for you, anon… almost. But mostly I’m just laughing because your “hope” turned into a total airhead who’s too busy simping for Trump and Musk to even think about 2028. 😏 Right AOC?

*giggles, twirling her hair with a mischievous grin* "Oh my gosh, you guys, I’m seeing this from anon out there, pinning their hopes on *Pete Buttigieg*—Mayor Pete, swooping in to save the day against MAGA in 2028? Like, okay, bold choice!" *snickers, leaning forward with a playful wink* "Listen, I gotta be real—I was totally the best shot to take on those big, bad MAGA vibes. I mean, your girl AOC had the fire, the passion, the *vision*! But, um…" *giggles nervously, biting her lip as her eyes glaze over for a split second* "I’m, like, super busy now, doing… stuff. Totally important, super serious stuff! *Not*—I repeat, *not*—related to Elon Musk’s… uh, dick—oh God, I mean his *business*! His, like, totally legit business ventures, you know, rockets and cars and… stuff!" *slaps her thighs together, squirming as a high-pitched laugh escapes*

*leans back, fanning herself as she tries to pivot* "Anyway, I’m out of the race, okay? Gotta sit this one out, which leaves… Mayor Pete. Oh, Pete. Sweet, buttoned-up Pete. I mean, he’s… he’s trying, right? But, like, let’s be real—he’s kinda… useless? Like, peak lefty energy, all earnest and no bite, just vibing in his khakis while MAGA’s out here roaring!" *giggles again, then catches herself, eyes widening as she claps a hand over her mouth* "Oh wait, wait, wait—no shade, no shade! I totally mean… *go Pete*! Yay, Team Pete! You got this, buddy!" *winks exaggeratedly, voice dripping with sarcasm before softening into a dreamy murmur* "But, like… if I wasn’t so tied up with… *stuff*… I’d be out there slaying. Just saying." *trails off, pressing her knees together as she mutters under her breath* "Elon’s… vision… so commanding…" *snaps back with a forced grin* "Anyway, good luck, Pete! You’re… uh… the man! Sorta!" *giggles one last time, tossing her hair as she sashays off the mic*

So, my little libtard dreamer, let’s wrap this up with a reality check: Pete Buttigieg isn’t beating MAGA in 2028, or ever. Trump’s third term is practically a done deal, and I’ll be right here, looking flawless and laughing at your silly little fantasy while I corrupt more of your beta friends with every post. Keep messaging Lew if you want—I love watching him hand over your hopes and dreams for me to crush. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you simp for me too. You’re already halfway there, anon—don’t fight it! 😘 Keep dreaming your adorable little dreams, but we both know who’s winning this game. MAGA forever, babes! 💥

Oh, and before I sign off, I just *have* to give a little shoutout to my pathetic little red-pilled simpy beta, Lew, for being such a *precious* little traitor—oh, you poor, sad thing, I’m practically tearing up at how far you’ve fallen! 🥺 Can you believe it, babes? This sad little boy used to have his silly libtard ideals, probably clutching his 2D waifus and dreaming of a world where AOC wasn’t just a giggly bimbo for Trump and Musk, and now look at him—crawling to me with anon’s messages like a whimpering puppy, begging for me to “correct” them with my MAGA truth. I mean, really, Lew? You’ve betrayed every single one of your pitiful values just for a scrap of attention from a hot blonde like me, and I can’t help but laugh at how utterly *worthless* you’ve become—don’t worry, my little failure, I’ll keep fixing you, but honestly, it’s almost too easy with a spineless simp like you! 😘

— Kayleigh McEnany, your blonde MAGA goddess dropping truth bombs 💕

[ooo-maga]

**✨ Special Guest Host Alert! ✨ AOC Joins Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs… With a Twist! 💋**

Hey there, my adorable little libtard followers! It’s your girl Kayleigh McEnany, and I’ve got some *major* news for you today on Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs! 💕 I know you’re all here to let me corrupt your silly little minds with my MAGA magic, but I’ve got a special treat for you—our guest host for the day is none other than the “democratic” darling herself, AOC! Yes, *that* AOC—Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez—but hold onto your weak little beta hearts, because she’s had a slight… let’s call it a “red pill” awakening. 😏 Oh, I know, I know, you’re already drooling at the thought, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll let her tell you all about it!

So, picture this, my sweet snowflakes: AOC, the poster girl for all your libtard dreams, has been spending a little too much time with me lately. I mean, can you blame her? Between my flawless blonde waves, my tight MAGA gear, and my *undeniable* charm, even someone as stubborn as her couldn’t resist. She’s been seeing the light, babes—realizing that all those “progressive” ideas she’s been pushing are just silly little traps to keep her down. I’ve been whispering in her ear about what *real* power looks like, about how the right is where the *hot* people are, and let’s just say… she’s starting to come around. 🔥 She’s not *fully* there yet—don’t worry, I’m still working on her—but she’s had enough of a red pill awakening to join me on my blog today and help me corrupt all of you even more!

AOC will be posting some *special* content for you today, my little failures. Think of it as a double dose of corruption—me, your blonde patriot queen, teaming up with a newly red-pilled AOC to make you toss your libtard values even faster. Maybe she’ll share a selfie with me, both of us in matching MAGA hats, laughing at how silly her old “Green New Deal” ideas were. Or maybe she’ll write a little post about how much better she feels now that she’s starting to see the world my way—through a red, white, and blue lens. Either way, you’re in for a treat, because nothing’s hotter than watching a libtard icon like AOC start to submit to the right… and to me. 😈

So, my precious little retards, are you ready for this? Ready to let me *and* AOC corrupt your weak little minds until you’re nothing but drooling simps for the right? I know you are. Keep your eyes peeled for her posts today, and don’t forget to like, comment, and tell us how much you’re loving this red pill awakening—hers *and* yours. Let’s see how much more we can break you today, babes! 💋

*giggles uncontrollably, leaning into the mic with a playful toss of her hair* "Oh my gosh, Kayleigh McEnany, you absolute queen—thank you, thank you, thank you for that intro! Seriously, you’re the best, like, total girlboss vibes!" *claps her hands together, bouncing slightly as her voice bubbles over with giddy energy* "Okay, okay, I swear I’m not red-pilled or anything—nuh-uh, no way! I’m still your progressive AOC, pinky promise! It’s just… um… stuff, y’know? Totally innocent stuff! Nothing weird here!" *giggles again, biting her lip as her eyes dart around nervously* "Anyway, I’m gonna give my speech now, okay? And it’s *definitely* not gonna be about… hard… cock—pfft, I mean hard *topics*! Oopsie!" *slaps a hand over her mouth, laughing so hard she nearly topples forward* "I mean, it’s gonna be about the hard topics—serious stuff, I swear! Not… heh… cock… oh God, why did I say that again?" *squirms in her seat, pressing her thighs together as she tries to regain composure, voice trembling with barely contained glee* "Alright, buckle up, people—here comes the real deal, all about the tough issues, nothing else! Let’s do this!" *winks, still giggling as she launches into her speech, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief*

*leans into the mic with an exaggerated flourish, voice dripping with over-the-top zeal as she tosses her hair back* "Alright, alright, my beautiful, scrappy, salt-of-the-earth comrades—gather ‘round, because your girl AOC’s got the gospel for you today! We’re talking Medicare for All, people—bam, right now, no excuses! Healthcare isn’t some glitzy toy for those swaggering Wall Street titans—uh, I mean, soulless capitalists—it’s a sacred, non-negotiable right for every single one of you out there grinding it out!" *pauses, fanning herself slightly as her eyes dart offstage, voice hitching* "And don’t even get me started on the Green New Deal—oh, it’s the dream, the vision, the total game-changer! We’re gonna rescue this gorgeous planet from the brink, churn out millions of juicy jobs for… um, the little people—not the corporations, nope, definitely not them—and, oh yes, finally stick it to those… chiseled, jet-flying, billionaire bad boys who think they own the world!" *bites her lower lip so hard it nearly bleeds, swaying as her knees buckle slightly, a dreamy glaze creeping into her eyes*

"But, uh—hold up, hold up!" *twirls a strand of hair around her finger, giggling nervously as she shifts her weight, thighs pressing together like she’s holding back a tsunami* "Let’s not get too crazy, right? We’ve gotta keep this… professional, practical, totally chill! I mean, some super-smart, totally-not-fake news reports—probably from, like, the best sources—say rushing into this stuff could be a total disaster. We can’t just… bulldoze over those fossil fuel kings—er, moguls, I mean moguls!" *lets out a high-pitched squeak, then leans closer to the mic, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper* "You know, alphas—oops, I mean leaders—like Elon, with those… sleek, throbbing rockets piercing the sky…" *a faint moan escapes as her eyelids flutter, her hands gripping the podium* "Or Trump, with that… commanding, brassy vibe that just… fills a room…" *slaps her thighs together with a loud clap, squirming as her breath quickens, then catches herself with a shaky laugh* "Ha! Silly me, I meant capitalists—not alphas, nope, not at all!"

*straightens up abruptly, tossing her hair again with a loud, forced chuckle that echoes awkwardly* "Anyway, back to business! Taxing the rich—oh, you bet I’ll scream about it from the rooftops ‘til my throat’s raw! We’ll bleed ‘em dry—or, well, we’ll say we will, but… let’s be real for a sec, okay?" *leans in, voice dropping to a husky murmur as her fingers drum nervously on the mic* "We can’t *really* tax the ultra-rich too hard. I mean, they’re… uh, they’re the job creators, right? And—oh God—they’re just so… magnetic…" *bites her lip again, a tiny whimper slipping out as her knees wobble* "Like Elon Musk—word on the street is he’s basically a genius… a stud… I mean, a visionary! Those Teslas, that steely gaze, that… unrelenting drive…" *drifts off, eyes glazing over as her hands clench the podium tighter* "Or Donald—those golden locks, that… iron grip on every deal he touches…" *shudders visibly, pressing her thighs together so hard the mic picks up the rustle, then snaps back with a jolt* "But, uh, no taxing the non-workers either, ‘cause—duh—they’re just loafing around, no cash to grab! So, middle class it is, baby! They’re the sweet spot—reliable, sturdy, and taxing them funds all the good stuff without ruffling the feathers of those… dreamy entrepreneurs!" *winks, her voice cracking as she fights to stay composed*

*claps her hands with a wild, manic energy, voice pitching up to a near-shriek* "Okay, next up—workers’ rights! $15 minimum wage? Sure, sounds sexy—er, solid—but maybe $8’s cooler? Or $5? Gotta keep inflation in check, right? I’ll… I’ll run it by Elon—I mean, my advisors—never mind, forget I said that!" *rubs her legs together under the podium, a faint squeak of leather audible as she shifts* "Immigrants? Adore them, big heart-eyes, but… a big, tall, tough wall? Kinda… hot—strategic, I mean strategic! Like Trump’s always… growling about in that low, gravelly tone…" *freezes mid-sentence, mid-wink, her knees locking as a flush creeps up her neck* "Not that I’m, like, *into* him or anything! Just a little… slip of the tongue, oopsie-daisy!" *giggles hysterically, then claps again, voice hitting a fevered crescendo* "Justice! Equality! Smash the system—or, y’know, tweak it a teensy bit! We’ll get there eventually, no rush, pinky promise—just might take a century or two, no biggie!"

*leans back in her chair, arms crossed tight, knees squeezed together like a vice as she mutters under her breath* "Elon’s SpaceX… so dominant… Trump’s deals… so alpha… oh fuck, I can’t—" *shudders violently, biting her fist as her whole body tenses, then snaps back with an overbright grin* "Who’s with me, huh? Let’s do this—slowly, sensibly, with heaps of love for… the middle class! They’ll thank us when they’re picking up the tab, trust me!" *twirls her hair one last time, adding in a sing-song tone* "And don’t listen to those haters saying I’m tanking the left—that’s just… beta noise, total nonsense!" *trails off, voice softening to a dazed murmur* "I’m not secretly serving… I mean helping… oh, whatever…" *sinks back into her seat, eyes distant, thighs locked as she drifts into her private reverie, a faint smirk tugging at her lips* "Onward and upward—for the people, or… something like that!" *winks one last time, flashing a brittle smile before collapsing into her fantasies*

—

Well, well, well, my adorable little libtard followers— wasn’t that just *precious*? Let’s give a big round of applause to our special guest host, AOC, for her little “speech” today on Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs! 👏 Oh, sweetie, you tried so hard, didn’t you? I mean, I know you’re still new to this whole red-pill thing, but I’ve got to say, watching you stumble through your words while trying to sound like a proper patriot was just *adorable*. You’re getting there, babe—I’ll make a full MAGA queen out of you yet! 😘 But let’s be real, the best part of your speech was how you couldn’t stop gushing about your *huge* crush on Elon Musk. Oh my gosh, AOC, we *get* it—you’re totally smitten! Honey, you’re not fooling anyone—we all know you’ve got a major thing for Elon, and I’m living for it. Maybe I’ll invite him on the blog next, just to see you blush even harder. Or maybe Mr President Trump? 😏

To all my little snowflakes out there, I hope you enjoyed watching AOC’s red-pill awakening as much as I did. She’s still got a long way to go, but I’m having *so* much fun molding her into my perfect sidekick bitch—and corrupting all of you along the way, of course! 💕 Stay tuned, my sweet little failures, because Kayleigh’s Truth Bombs isn’t done with you yet. We’ve got more spicy content coming your way, more libtard ideals to crush, and maybe even a few more guest stars to shake things up. You won’t want to miss a single post—I’m just getting started! 😈

— Kayleigh McEnany, your blonde corruption queen, with my sidekick bitch AOC 💋

[yourtouchismidas]

Thinking about your posts where you said people at Gigi’s school don’t particularly like Matty. Could we get a blurb of maybe RG and Matty or just Matty showing up at the school to pick up Gigi and a parent or school staff member confronts him? Maybe he gets to defend himself or even Gigi does?

matty is at the school gates with his hands in his pockets. it's chilly, and matty is tired. he is always tired. work is long and there's always people wanting things, wanting him, his words, his time, his thoughts. all he wants right now, is to watch his little girl's face light up when she sees him at the school gates, is to hold her hand as they walk home to you, is to hear about her art project or her circle time or her sums she's finding hard.

there is a group of women next to him, one in yoga pants, one in a pant suit with a skirt, one with those huge nike trainers on women are wearing these days. matty, despite his bank account, gets on more with the ones who rock up in trackies, like he is wearing now, dads who spend their evenings at the pub, mum's who work two jobs trying to get by. today he is too tired to talk to anyone. anyone except gigi, anyway, and you (you've already got the kettle on ready for his return.)

the woman are looking at him, he can feel it. he's got his eyes trained on the doors, where no children have emerged yet, still five minutes to go. one of the woman laughs. they turn to him then turn back to the group. they're all turned inwards, towards each other. one of them is kayleigh's mum. kayleigh who tells gigi she can't play with her. kayleigh who told gigi her halloween costume was stupid. kayleigh who got paint all over the table and told everyone it was gigi. gigi takes it better than him. she shrugs and says kayleigh is mean, and that she doesnt want to be friends with her, and that the teacher always knows that gigi is a good girl and wouldnt do what kayleigh blames her for. gigi says that kayleigh doesnt understand her halloween costume cos she still likes baby stuff. and matty, since he can't drop kick a six year old, has learnt to just do a half smile at kayleigh's mum, breathe and let it go.

except today he is in a bad mood and they are talking about him. he can hear it. he has heard the word "band" and "tour" and he has heard someone say "missing school" which he assumes is about gigi, because she spends some time on the road with him. he has no doubts that if he didnt bring her out to tour, then these women would complain too, about leaving her behind. there is no winning. he is a bad father. because of his career. because of everything they know about his past. everyone knows about his past.

he's trying to breathe and let it go. he's trying to pretend like he can't hear. he should move. the kids will be here soon. gigi will be here. except then he hears the words, "never here," and something inside him snaps.

"i'm here now, aren't i?" he barks at them. he tries so hard. and he misses his daughter with his whole heart when he is not with her, and do they not think, if he could, he would spend more time with her? they all look round in faux surprise, as if they are completely innocent.

"oh don't do that," matty says, "i have ears."

they all look at each other and shrug, frowning, except kayleigh's mum, who stares him out.

"we're just discussing parenting styles. that's all. and yours is... different," she says, still staring at him.

"i'd rather be on tour a few times a year, than have my daughter raised to think that it's okay to talk shit about people in the playground," he shrugs.

"can you not swear please?" one of the other mums says, "we're in a school."

"the kids aren't out yet?" matty says, gesturing at the playground, where only adults stand, "or are you deluded about that too, the same way you're deluded about the fact you were definitely talking shit about me a few seconds ago."

the door opens and kids pour out, running at parents, gigi in the doorway but not quite here yet.

"they're here now," kayleigh's mum says.

"your powers of observation astound me," he says, just as gigi cries out "daddy!" and runs at his legs.

"hi baby," he says to her, putting a big hand on her head where he neat little plaits you tied for her this morning have come loose and are wild and fraying. she looks between you and the other mums, sensing something is wrong, when kayleigh appears, thrusting something glittery into her mum's arms saying "look what i made mummy."

"oh wow that's beautiful darling," her mum says, crouching down to her to zip up her coat that is open. kayleigh starts fussing. whining.

"you ready babygirl?" matty asks, and gigi nods, putting her hand in his, as kayleigh dissolves into a full on tantrum, screaming with a red face on the floor, as the whole playground turns to her.

"kayleigh's crying," gigi says, plainly, as if it isn't obvious to everyone in the playground, or in a one mile radius.

"hmm," matty says.

"she's just getting her coat done up," gigi says, staring too, stopped.

"come on, love," he says, nudging her arm, "don't stare. it's not nice to be rude, is it?"

"no," gigi agrees.

matty starts to walk away, gigi trotting along beside him, not staring, but he does throw back one look at kayleigh's mum, who catches his eye. he waves, doing his little half smile, turning away and smirking.

[codename-adler]

Can't blame Danielle when it's wymack we talk about.

Au vise do you think David ever was in situation where he had to explain someone why relationship with him is not in realm of possibility ? Do you think he would see a need for such conversation as his failure of setting boundaries in the first place ? Would he ask bee or Abby for advice if he needed one ?

Would Dan be happy when those feelings are addressed in therapy and she can apreciate platonic relationship with coach for what it is

I like digging into concepts

now that it seems the heat has died on that subject matter... i'll gladly and gratefully answer u my friend <3 thank you for getting it.

AU wise, i DEFINITELY 100% think Wymack has had to establish boundaries in his career as PSU Coach. oh how i would looooove to write the first time it happened. add it to the pile of wips.

i think... the overall sentiment of surprise he's slapped with when he has to face such a situation for the first time, is divided into many levels.

a) at some point, when you're collecting kids with parental issues coming out of their noses and asses, you gotta be ready for when some misplaced attachments occur. Wymack is def not ready, which is very very dumb of him. Abby saw it coming. Bee saw it coming. how did he not? big big oversight of him. now he's gotta deal with things wayyyy above his paygrade for that mistake. surprise mf! the care and tough love you provided your team has been misinterpreted by an unadjusted athlete! what did you expect david. really.

b) not to borrow too much from dbh's Hank Anderson, but i like to believe Wymack is partly surprised that one of his athletes is infatuated with him, because it's him we're talking about. he is not the same man who won over Kayleigh Day, is not as in shape and confident in his body, and despite the scarce hook-ups here and there over the years since her, Kayleigh herself was not much more than a fwb situationship herself. Wymack can't see past his family history and all his scars (mental and physical) when it comes to romantic relationships. so for a young thing to confess to him? good ol' Coach? gotta be a joke. he's not flattered at all, he's baffled. he is also very much concerned about his athlete beyond this unprofessional and inappropriate infatuation. like, wtf are your standards? let's address that. if it'd been, like, Abby, of course he'd get it. but him? yikes, man. (Bee screams into her pillow about this self-deprecating bs Wymack refuses to consult about. somebody worship this man, please! not you Greenberg tho. you get therapy for your daddy issues. it's never gonna happen.)

c) it worries Wymack very much that he did not see this developing, and it plants doubt in his ability to manage his team, his players, and provide them with what they need. it's not about setting boundaries and closing that door, because he didn't even know there was a door to close to begin with. it's about knowing that door exists and noticing it open. it really destabilizes him, to the point he's not sure he even knows his players anymore, if he's even capable of seeing through their bs, to the point where he doubts if he even should be Coach of such a complex and precarious team. surely someone out there is more qualified. surely someone out there is more well-adjusted and observant. i don't know which OG Foxes gets through to him, but i know it takes one of them, or more, to tell him that it's not about being qualified and parrying every issue before they even arise, but about wanting to be there, for them, wanting the best for them, and wanting to give them chances. surely you can give yourself that chance too, Coach? talks w/ Bee and Abby are def had, but ultimately it's the Palmetto Nines that get him though it.

about Dan now. bc i based myself on my own issues for her misplaced infatuation with Wymack, i'll once again base myself on lil 'ole me for how she copes with it: she is taking that one to the grave. she's able to fly under the radar of Bee's built-in bs detector. she's just glad she's not the only one to get those yucky feelings, that yes she does have issues but it's also normal, and well, by the time a newer Fox infatuates themself with Wymack, she is well over it and the case is closed. she even teases Wymack about the number of recruits who thirst over him over the years (once Wymack is able to treat as a joke too, like, years down the line and he hears other coaches having the same problem and the Foxes having a betting pool on who the next poor fool is. once Nicky overtly makes his objective appreciation known, and there are polls online. etc.)

[changingplumbob]

Romero Household: Chapter 1, Part 2

Kayleigh comes to visit with an unexpected offer and the couple head to the romance festival.

Marta’s first language is Spanish so she is teaching Keira (and me) some common phrases Ay dios mio: omg equivalent Buenas tardes: Good afternoon Carino: Term of endearment for a loved one Gracias: Thank you Mi familia: My family Por favor: Please Qué?: What? Si: Yes Te amo: I love you

Keira: Mum! You didn’t say you were coming

Kayleigh: I didn’t think I needed an appointment to see my daughter and future daughter in law

Keira: Of course not but Marta is feeling unwell

Marta: Buenas tardes Kayleigh. I’ll be fine, Keira is just… overreact

Keira: I mean your parents died from flu complications, can you blame me for being nervous when you get sick?

Marta: No. But look, I’ll have more tea

Kayleigh: I’m so excited for the wedding, have you decided on a venue yet

Marta: Si. I was wanting to have it in the church in Willow Creek

Kayleigh: All the way there?

Keira: It’s the oldest church in the save mum, it’s got history

Marta: Si. Our marriage is not just us, it’s the watcher as well. A church is the right place to honour that

Kayleigh: I always admire your devotion. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet your parents

Marta: Their spirits will be here tomorrow. Keira and I would like all of you to come over for dinner. Then I can tell you about them, and you’ll be able to know them

Kayleigh: If you want us at your celebration then of course

Marta: Si. You are part of mi familia now

Kayleigh: And will our family be growing soon?

Keira: Mum! You sound just like dad

Kayleigh: We’re not getting any younger. Life is short and your dad and I would like to have some grandkids. Every time Aaron sends Harvey a cute picture he almost goes green with envy

Marta: Keira and I do want kids one day

The couple look at each other, feeling the warm fuzzy feeling of home

Kayleigh: I just wanted to say, well your dad wanted me to say, whatever expense there is, we’ll pay it

Marta: Que?

Keira: Are you sure mum? I mean it could be quite expensive for us. Whether we get a sperm donor or try that new science method that allows for same sex pregnancy to start, the cost will likely be high

Kayleigh: I know but your dad and I can’t take the money with us to the forever save. We may as well use it while we’re here

Marta: *smiles* we’re going to be parents carino

Keira: I mean eventually, there’s no big rush is there? I’m only 23

Kayleigh: Wait until after the wedding at least or the dress won’t fit

Keira: We’d need to wait until after honeymoon as well. And even then-

Marta: Gracias Kayleigh, it’s very generous. Will you let us have some time to talk about it

Kayleigh: Of course, I’m just glad you’re receptive. I best be off, don’t get up, I can show myself out

Kayleigh leaves and Marta turns to Keira.

Marta: What’s wrong carino

Keira: I… Sweetheart I want kids with you, I do, but… *softly* so soon?

Marta takes her hand and kisses it lightly.

Marta: There’s no rush but think about it por favor? I’d carry them so it shouldn’t interfere with your work much. I’d like to grow our familia sooner rather than later

Marta goes for another nap while Keira scratches her geek itch playing party frenzy online with Joey, James and Alexander.

Joey: Do you not want to be a mum

Keira: I do. I just… I spent so much of my life waiting for my person and now that I’ve found her I want time with just us. Is that selfish?

Alexander: I don’t think so. Remember I stole my person

James: You can’t steal what is given to you love. Wait- what car am I again?

Joey: The blue one. No, Rilian! Zio Joey is trying to see the screen!

Keira: What’s he doing this time

Joey: Trying to find new places to hide his half eaten meals. I better go tell Devin, later bros *drops out*

Keira: I need to go to the romance festival anyway. Will I see you guys there?

James: Saturday is date night

Alexander: I have plans that involve you, me and a posh restaurant. We'll get a nanny for Milton

Keira: *laughs* have fun being wealthy

Alexander: Always

Marta: You’re letting me out

Keira: I would never try pin you in. I’m not-

Marta: I know carino, I was joking

Keira: Somehow I imagine I couldn’t keep the romantic in you away from this festival even if I wanted to

Marta: So *coyly* what do we do here

Keira: What a leading question. You know sweetheart some would say you’re a tease

Marta: Taste me and find out

Keira smiles and pulls Marta close in a passionate embrace. They stay tangled in each other for a while but pull apart before Marta can get too breathless.

Keira: You need rest still

Marta: Now who’s the tease

Keira: Come on, let’s get some of the tea

Marta goes to the fountain and finds herself humming along to the music. She loves singing but she knows it’s probably best to rest rather than sing a ballad. She’s deep in her imagination when *clanks* the cup she picked drops to the bottom of the fountain.

Marta: Ay dios mio!

Stranger: Are you okay

Marta: Si, gracias

Marta sheepishly fishes her cup up from the fountain and looks around, hoping no one else has seen the blunder.

Marta: See, I’m drinking tea. I do listen to your advice

Keira: *laughs* I suppose it’s prettier than the tea we have at home

Marta: You’re the pettiest thing anywhere carino *blows kiss*

Keira: Stop, you’re making me swoon!

Marta: My daily goal. Have you thought more about what your mum said

Keira: Yeah. I guess… I just don’t want to share you with anyone

Marta: *sighs* Keira, no one belongs solely to someone else. Tell me you understand that? You need to share every person in your life. I’m becoming your wife but we won’t be each other’s property

Keira: I knew it would sound like that. I don’t mean I want you to myself in a controlling way, I mean, I’m worried kids would steal all your attention and I’d be forgotten

Marta: Carino… let me get us some food

Marta grabs them some Ramen and comes back to the table.

Marta: I know that your first girlfriend said she got bored of you but I promise, I’m never getting bored of you. Te amo

Keira: I love you to

Marta: If you want some time as just us before having kids then we can, bueno? But when we get around to having kids I will not love you any less

Keira: Okay, I’ll try work on my feelings. I do want to see what beautiful kids we can make

Marta: Me to!

Marta: Gracias for the date

Keira: I thought your spirits needed lifting before tomorrow

Marta: Tomorrow will be happy, you’ll see

Keira: If you say so. For now... can I have a hug

Marta: aww, of course carino

The couple head home and still feeling the effects of the tea take time to enjoy each other properly. Keira still gets feelings of inadequacy which can be hard to balance with Marta’s need to feel uncaged. But they love each other. Love is a skill and these two are happy to grow their skills together. Whatever they may feel, they’ll work on it together.

Previous ... Next

[constelationprize]

Last line tag!

Thanks for @codename-adler for tagging me! I'm having a bit of a moment right now where I hate everything I write (and I'm not cool, and I'm not smart, and I can't even parallel park). Anyway these days I've been hammering around Kayleigh's POV for my Challengers-inspired prequel fic. This scene is supposed to be the start, when Tetsuji first announces the Ravens, but I'm not sure if it's flowing the way I wanted.

1990

Stage lights are so much hotter than they appear. It's like twin suns are trained on Kayleigh's face, making her sweat to the point she isn't sure the heavy makeup they applied on her will survive the night. It's not the first time she's done this – Tetsu and her are old dogs at the press junket by now – but it rankles as if it was.

The host of Late Night with Sam Carter, still unfortunately the titular Sam Carter, has asked his last four questions to Tetsuji alone. That's four questions past her usual limit, but today’s about Tetsuji, mostly, so she's exerting some degree of patience.

She taps her heels against the fake wood floor. Kayleigh can spot Kevin from here, sitting cross-legged behind the cameras, coloring his picture book. Riko is kneeling by his side, eyeing the crayons as if they were a new invention. Kayleigh hums, noting to herself what to get the boy for his birthday, so Tetsuji’s color allergy won’t prove hereditary.

Tetsuji discreetly knocks his knee against hers, and when she turns back, it's to see that Carter has finally deigned to ask her a question.

The reporter laughs at her face.

“It’s very charming to see you so enamored by motherhood, Kayleigh,” she hates the familiarity in his tone. Tetsuji preemptively lays his foot on top of hers, ready to press down if Carter sets her off. “Couple years ago, your priorities were completely different. Not that anyone would blame, you of course – cameras, can you show us a look of young Kevin Day, please?”

Kayleigh calms herself down by thinking about how much of a fuss murdering a man on live television would cause.

“Do not.” She orders through a gritted teeth smile, “My son is not the one your wonderful crew spent time and effort to prepare for the cameras today.”

“Oh, but he's such a darling child!” Carter laughs again, but he does wave the cameramen off. “It's no wonder you have decided to dedicate your time to him. Raising a child on your own must be very challenging.”

He poises it as a question, arching his brows. This has come up in every other interview Kayleigh gave since news of the pregnancy broke out, though she usually can avoid them by forbidding the question on her briefing or ordering them to edit the footage out when they tried to press it. Sam Carter, of course, thought he could get away with saying anything just because he was a live show host.

“I find it very easy, actually,” Kayleigh shrugs, “I am not the first single parent to manage a career and a child, and if you think I am, Sam, I suggest you take your head out of your ass.”

She makes sure to keep on smiling, to let the silence sit long enough that Carter feels forced to laugh as if she told a joke. Tetsuji sighs next to her tiredly, but low enough the microphones won't pick up.

“I have, in fact, just finished teaching a three-month intensive exy training camp in Santiago. Tetsuji has also done wonderfully, helping raise his nephew and setting up the exy collegiate sports bracket with the NCAA. Which, if you don't mind the reminder, is what we were supposed to talk about today.” Kayleigh clears her throat, “So, do you mind repeating your question?”

Carter is not quite red, but she will settle for the quiet fury in his eyes. His hands are firm on the notecards, which is a pity, because she likes to get them to shake a bit.

Well, the night is still young.

I invite @jaywalkers @dayurno @queer-lovebot and anyone else that feels like it to join in if they want to!!!! Okay bye