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LOVE this omg

lowkey think aaron also has some kind of crazy memory just like andrew but bc neil doesn’t care about aaron as much we just wouldn’t know.

like i think aaron is genius level smart and used drugs partially bc his mind moved too fast for him to deal with along with everything at home, he used drugs to cope with a mind that wouldn’t let him forget.

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Aaron is his mother's son in that he was weaned on venom and fed her cruelty until it rooted deep inside him and became a part of him he couldn't carve out of himself if he tried. But Andrew's apathy is a special kind of cruel in and of itself, and he is a violent creature, who knows why he bites and enjoys bloodying his teeth as much as he can enjoy anything. They are a twisted tapestry of what the worst of humanity can do to kids and they are also simply human and the question isn't who is worse, it's what kind of worse is the most damaging

i don’t wanna hear it about the “who’s meaner: andrew or aaron” discussion anymore. it’s aaron 1000%. andrew doesn’t care to hurt your feelings, aaron however, does care to. he knows exactly how to hurt your feelings and is unafraid to go there.

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“I can’t do this.”

He looks up from his paperwork, head tilting automatically as he considers his new captain. 

Dan Wilds looks as tough and determined as she had four months ago when he’d shown up at her door and she’d promptly threatened to punch him in the face. Her curly hair is piled into a bun on the top of her head, jaw set, and she’s gripping her exy raquette like it’s the last thing tethering her to the earth, despite the fact that practice ended over two hours ago. 

Still, she’s dimmer than usual. Not enough than anybody who didn’t know what to look for could tell, but her shoulders are slumped just a little bit and her eyes are tired. Too tired.

“Have a seat, kid.”

Dan has only ever been the picture of unflinching determination, an even keeled, team oriented, deadly smart spitfire of a player, the kind of person who could light a fire under the assess of even the most lacklustre of players, the kind of captain the foxes desperately needed. So seeing the way she slumps into the chair across from his desk after just two weeks with the team is concerning. 

He pours himself a glass of whiskey, pushing his paperwork aside. Dan watches him, disapproval clear in her eyes that she refuses to voice. 

“Now,” he says after he’s taken a pull of the half-sweet burning liquid, “what’s this about? Because I sure as hell didn’t let you think for a second this would be easy. I told you point blank what you were walking into, and you assured me you were up for the job. Now you’re here, what? Two weeks? Into the season telling me you can’t, and I never took you for a quitter.”

Her eyes flash, grip tightening on the racquet, and he’s glad not for the first time that for all her temper flares hotter than summer in Texas she’s got it reined in pretty well. All his foxes are angry in some way or another, but Dan has the dubious task of having to be the best of them, and that means keeping in check the venom he can see ready to drip off her tongue. 

She takes a deep breath before she speaks, and he can practically see the comeback she’s forcing herself to swallow. 

“I’m not quitting,” she says quitting like it’s a dirty word, and he hides a grin behind his glass, “I’m simply stating a fact: the way things stand right now, I can’t do this. I can deal with the team hating me, see if I give a fuck. I can deal with those two bitches you assigned me as roommates, and I can deal with the fucking racist, misogynist bullshit from the press. I told you I could and I meant it. It’s not like it’s anything I’m not used to. But you need a captain, and I can’t be captain if they won’t listen to me. And they won’t.”

The flash of defeat over her face makes his heart ache. He won’t pretend he’s known Dan for very long, but over the summer she’d spent at Abby’s place he’d very quickly grown fond of her. To see his latest long shot and greatest hope already so beaten down stings. 

“I’ll still play for the team,” Dan continues, and he can see the way she’s steeling herself, forcing herself to give up what she’d fought so hard for, for the sake of the team, to make them better, “Hell, I’ll play captain without the title or co-captain or assistant captain if you want, but you need a captain they’ll listen to and they’ll never listen to me. You have to pick someone else. ” 

“No.”

“Coach-“

“No.” He cuts her off, “You think anyone cares about this team enough to put the work in? You think any of the losers out there would put half an ounce of the effort you’ve shown in two weeks to better the team in a whole year? Hell no. The fact that you’re here saying this now is proof that you’re the only one for the job.”

Her wide brown eyes are suspiciously shiny, grief, and anger, and hope, and despair all fighting to take precedence in her mind. 

But she swallows her tears, fights the emotions back until she’s taken on a forced calm. It’s the kind of thing he’s done himself dozens of time, whenever one of his players gets hurt on the court, or relapses, or just plain gives up. It’s a skill ever good coach he’s ever met has perfected, the ability to put your own emotions on the back burner so you can make the best decision for your team. 

Womack knows then and there that one day, Dan Wilds is going to be magnificent. She’s a force of nature now, but he’s starting to think that by appointing her captain he’s only just starting to scratch the surface of her true potential. 

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” her composure is truly remarkable, “and it’s not that I don’t want to be captain. You know I do. But I can’t lead them if they won’t listen to me.”

“Then make them.”

“How?” She demands, “I’ve tried everything. I’ve been firm. I’ve yelled. I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being mean. None of it works. I can’t even make them run laps if they won’t give me the time of day.”

It’s true she’s been trying. He’s watched at practice, the way she tries and tries and fails, and pivots to the next new idea and tries again. The thing is, she isn’t exactly right. While three or four of the newest guys refuse to follow her directions, the rest have slowly started looking to her for direction and following her orders, albeit grudgingly. She’s doing well, really, all things considered. Far better than he’d thought she’d be doing at this point. 

Still, maybe she needs a bit of help. More help than he’d offered because he was so taken with how capable she is, he’d forgotten for a second that she’s just nineteen and determined and not superhuman for all she seems like it. If only she could see what he sees. 

“Listen carefully,” he says, “I told you when I found you that I would never give up on you and I meant it. That means I’m not giving up on you being captain- not now, not ever, and I should have been more clear about that to the rest of the team from the start, and from now on I will be. You’re in charge. You make them listen to you, and if they don’t: bench ‘em, and I’ll back you. This isn’t your high school team, Dan, and I’m not you high school coach. You don’t have to be both captain and coach without any sort of help anymore.”

“I can bench them,” the light is back in her eyes, that determined fire lit from within stoked once more, “you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack. Whoever you say is benched, is benched. They’ll sit out all practice. And if you have to bench em’ more than once, they’ll sit out of games too until they get with the program. It might take a while to earn their respect. You might never get it from some of them. But so help me god they will listen to you or they will not play. Got it?”

“Got it,” she pushes herself to her feet, practically bouncing. If he had to guess, he’s say she’s probably raring to go back to the dorm and write out practice regimes until she falls asleep with the light one. It’s what she’d done the full first week she stayed at Abby’s this summer. It’s what he used to do when he made captain of his NCAA team all those years ago. 

“Thanks coach. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” He assures her, and she finally smiles, a real smile, the one that makes her eyes crinkle up at the corners and made Matthew Boyd trip over his own feet the first time he saw it two weeks ago. 

“Goodnight coach. 

“Night, kid.”

She heads for the door, racquette still hanging from her hand, her head high. 

“Oh, and Dan?”

She pauses at the door, glancing quizzically over her shoulder. 

“Give your roommates a chance, would you? I think the three of you could be good for each other.” 

A derisive snort is the only response he gets before she rounds the corner and struts off.

There’s no one around to see it so he doesn’t bother hiding his smile this time, as he throws back the rest of his whiskey and pulls out his phone to update Abby. 

This is going to be their year.

***********

The next day Dan is ready.

Wymack can see it in the proud set of her shoulders, her kind but firm demeanour, more herself than she’s been all week. He sends the teams on warmups and she jogs around the track at the head of the pack, easily outpacing the rowdier guys who try and get ahead of her, forcing them to keep back. 

They make it through stretches and agility exercises without any major hiccups. It’s when he sets them to doing offensive drills and Dan starts correcting grips and stances, that trouble arises. 

“Thom, widen your stance a bit.”

The dealer sneers but ignores her completely. Dan gives him a cool look and moves down the line without saying anything. She adjusts Allison’s grip, gets Mattieu to stop crouching like a neanderthal, and circles back to Thom.

“Thom, widen your stance, your balance is all wrong.”

“Like I'm going to take direction from you.” He spits at her feet. 

Dan’s expression doesn’t change but her shoulders tighten the slightest bit. 

“I won’t tell you again. Change your stance, or you’re sitting out.”

Silence. Every player on the court has frozen and is watching the confrontation with wide eyes. Dan has challenged them before, but not like this. 

Thom scoffs, scorn written all over his face. 

“You can’t do that.”

“I’m your captain,” Dan reminds him, “and you’re being disrespectful. I absolutely can do that.”

“Only coach can bench people.”

“Let’s not find out, shall we? Widen your stance.”

Thom’s flushes, fury taking over. “No.”

“Fine,” Dan says calmly, “You’re benched.”

She turns away from him. 

“But-”

“You heard your captain, Mellick!” Wymack roars, “Sit your ass down!”

Thom shoots a murderous glare Dan’s way but isn’t stupid enough to argue, stomping across the court and practically throwing himself onto the bench.

A rumble of murmurs and snickers travel through the team like wildfire. 

“Hey,” Dan’s voice rings clear over the din, “that’s enough. All of you back to work. Renee, I want to see drill five again, Luke and Forest, you two can practice with her. Allison, you and Matthieu are on drill three. Backliners, I want to see passing drills; if I see any contact the lot of you will be running laps- that means you too Embry.”

The team jumps into action, splitting off into their assigned groups, obeying her for the first time- but certainly not the last. 

He gives her a quick thumbs up from his spot on the sidelines, and she answers with a wide grin, eyes shining. 

A few feet away, Matt Boyd misses an easy pass and crashes into the wall. 

Thom watches Matthieu taking his place in drills and fumes. Wymack rolls his eyes and makes a note on his clipboard. 

For the first time he lets himself believe that for once, they might actually win. 

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I could 100% believe this! Betsy seems like the kind of psychiatrist that is GREAT at helping other people sort their lives out but mostly as a way to avoid fixing her own. And it's not to say she is't happy or content! But she has trust issues, and commitment issues, and cares so much about her patients she can never find a healthy work life balance. That she refuses to ever admit this even to herself, means she kind of crashes and burns outside of work, but because work is the centre of her VERY tenuous universe it's her own safe space and thus the place where she performs at her best.

betsy dobson has been married four times btw. and engaged a fifth. in my mind anyway

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why should riko just get to stomp around like a giant while the rest of us try not to get smushed under his big feet? kevin is just as cute as riko, right? kevin is just as smart as riko, people totally like kevin just as much as they like riko, and when did it become okay for one person to be the boss of everybody because that's not what exy is about! we should totally just STAB RIKO

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The thing about being a drug addict is, you never forget the feeling.

Even after being clean for years Aaron remembers the bliss of heroine like it was singing through his veins yesterday. The sizzle of of cracker dust on his tongue only ever makes him long for something stronger, something that would really hype him up. 

And so, when he sluggishly pulls himself into consciousness, the first thing he notices is the pleasant heaviness of the opioids running through his bloodstream.

God he’d fucking missed opiates. For all he likes to party, most of the time his drugs were about escaping, and his favourite escape has always been sleep. When real sleep first became a pipe dream, around the time mom met her piece of shit boyfriend Jared, the false twilight he found from a handful of oxycodone or the needle of a syringe were a decent enough substitute, a heavy blanket muffling everything and anything, but especially pain. And in the time after mom found Jared and before he found Andrew, pain was something that was never in short supply for Aaron. 

He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to take opiates anymore though. At least, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken them willingly since he nearly died coming off of them and everything else on the floor of his childhood bathroom. Which begs the question- why are they thrumming through his veins right now? 

With a herculean effort he manages to lift his eyelids open, something the depressants in his bloodstream really don’t want him to do. He’s half tempted to ride out the high while he can, enjoy this little trip and deal with the inevitable fallout later, but if this really is some kind of relapse he has to drag himself somewhere with a lock so Andrew doesn’t actually murder him when he finds out. 

The sterile white sheets and dozens of monitors surrounding him however, make it pretty obvious that a relapse is probably not why he’s currently high as a kite. The bandages wrapped around his torso seal the deal. 

So he hasn’t relapsed- at least not by choice. Perfect. And he’s still high anyway. Awesome. 

(In a faraway corner of his mind he wonders how bad his injuries must be for them to risk giving him such serious pain meds, especially considering Andrew is his emergency contact and most definitely would have told the doctors everything he’s ever taken and the risk, risk, riskiness of giving it to him again. The rest of him is still too blissed out and heavy to care.)

Speaking of Andrew, shouldn’t he be here? If there’s one thing Andrew doesn’t trust it’s doctors, and no matter how complicated things are between them and as much as Aaron despises admitting it, Andrew does spend an exorbitant amount of time trying in his weird, fucked up, therapy-may-never-fully-cure-this way to look after1 him. And, as previously established, he’s Aaron’s emergency contact. Whatever happened to him- hit by a bus? Skydiving accident? Accidentally startling Neil? Aaron’s still kind of fuzzy on the details- Andrew should probably be here, at the very least to sign some paperwork. 

Right?

Should, being the key word, because through his half blurry vision and drug addled mind, Aaron quickly establishes that Andrew is not here. 

It shouldn’t feel as bad as it does. 

Aaron has been let down by Andrew before, dozens of times. It’s not like this is anything new, even if it does feel a lot bigger than Andrew bailing on lunch plans or choosing Neil over him even in the stupid arguments. But as much as he’s tried to keep his distance, much as he tried not to care, the undeniable truth about Andrew Minyard is that he’d crawled into a corner of Aaron’s heart the second Aaron found out he existed, and he’d lived there ever since, even if sometimes it felt like the tiny Andrew that lived there seemed determined to tear that corner of Aaron’s heart apart again and again and again, for no reason other than he could, because he was trapped there forever and no matter how hard he tried or how hard Andrew fought, he couldn’t ever get him out.

So it hurts, waking up alone, or it would if the drugs didn’t numb his emotional pains almost as well as his physical ones. 

Fuck he loves drugs. Why did he ever stop taking them?

Even still, there’s a sharp sting of betrayal fighting it’s way under the blanket of apathy, and behind it a wave of loneliness and self loathing that Aaron knows will crash over him the second the drugs start to wear off. He is and has only ever been the kind of bitter, lonely creature everyone eventually leaves behind. His dad did. His childhood friends did. 

His mom did.

He thinks of the last time he was in the hospital, a true hospital, for aches and pains that weren’t caused by chemistry and his fucked up brain, back when he was ten. He’d been alone in the hospital then too, had held one of the nurses hands and looked away while the doctors reset his broken arm because mom had grown bored after she half assed filling out his intake paperwork and had wandered away to the tiny hospital gift shop half an hour before he’d been called back. 

This kind of feels like that moment all over again, except this time he’s hurt far worse than a broken arm and Andrew hasn’t bothered to show up at all. 

Stupid, he chides himself. He and Andrew don’t cook each other breakfast when they’re in the the same room. Why did he honestly believe he’d show up for him at the hospital?

The knowledge of it hurts so much it shoots through the numbing of the drugs, the little Andrew in his heart tearing gleefully at Aaron’s muscle fibres like he’s trying to tear him apart from the inside out.  

If it hurts this badly now, it’s going to hurt so much more when the drugs wear off.

Maybe he shouldn’t let them. They’ll keep him on a prescription for the first few weeks after he gets out of here, if the bandages and what he can glean from the monitors are anything to judge by. And after that…well, he can try hitting up some of his old high school contacts. If Andrew doesn’t care enough to be here then Aaron no longer cares about their deal and he certainly doesn’t care to face the heartbreak that comes with loving someone who can’t show him that he loves him back, even if he somehow does. Better to choke it, strangle it, drown it out, to stuff that pain and the ever present loneliness deep and bury it under the false comfort of chemical oblivion, than feel it and feel it and feel it again. 

“-telling you his fingers moved, I’m not fucking lying.”

A familiar voice carries through the door and Aaron has just enough time to think, ‘oh’ and experience a muffled wave of regret mixed with something he’ll forever deny is gratitude, before Andrew is bursting in, practically shoving some poor nurse ahead of him.

“See?” Andrew gestures sharply, only the tiniest bit rattled out of usual unflappable demeanour, evident from his slightly raised voice and the way he kept folding and unfolding a piece of notebook paper obsessively. 

“Oh,” the nurses eye’s widen in disbelief, despite the fact that Andrew is no liar, “Mr.Minyard, how are you feeling?”

Aaron thinks for a second.

“High.”

“I meant more how are you feeling physically? Any pain?”

“Nah,” he manages a slight shake of his head, but can’t manage to look her in the eye when Andrew’s gaze is boring into him, icy and furoious, “th’ drugs are too good. ‘M feelin ’like twelfth grade again.”

“Shut up.” Andrew’s voice lashes like a whip and Aaron decides to shut up. He doesn’t want Andrew to leave again, and he also doesn’t want Andrew to kill him, and both of those seem like very real possibilities at the moment. 

So he ignores the rest of the nurses questions until she gives up with an eye roll, and tolerates her adjusting his IV and oxygen monitor. He winces as she helps him into a semi sitting position, the movement finally jostling  his injuries enough to send a sharp stab of pain through the haziness of the drugs, and his pained groan seems to be Andrew’s breaking point, because he orders her out with a sharp ‘get out’ and she doesn’t bother protesting, just lets them know the doctor will be by soon and closes the door behind her with an annoyed snap.

Then it’s just him and Andrew alone in a hospital room, and Andrew’s eyes are so cold Aaron genuinely thinks for a moment that he might try and smother him with a pillow.

They stare at each other for a while, Andrew furious and Aaron so stupidly comforted and happy to see him it’s actually embarrassing. But he’s not alone at the moment, doesn’t have to worry about saying or doing anything stupid while on the drugs because Andrew is here and he’d never let that happen. 

Finally, Andrew drops into the chair at his bedside with a sharp exhale. 

“You fucking idiot.”

“Wha’ happened?”

The question causes a fresh wave of anger to flit across Andrew’s face before he schools his expression once again. 

“Car accident.”

Oh. That made sense. Too much sense really. No wonder Andrew was so worked up.

Serves him right though. At least know he knows how Aaron felt.

Andrew’s still fidgeting, folding and unfolding that piece of paper, an uncharacteristic tick. The creases are so worn it’s a miracle it hasn’t fallen apart yet. 

He’s opening his mouth to ask how long he’s going to be stuck in the hospital, when Andrew’s gip slips the tiniest bit and Aaron gets his first real look at the paper in his hands. 

It pulls him up short. 

“You kept it.”

Andrew follows his gaze to the folded up paper in his hands and scowls, quickly stuffing it back in his pocket as if by doing so fast enough he could pretend Aaron hadn’t seen it. 

“Shut up.”

“You kept it,” Aaron repeats, and even in his drugged addled mind the fact that all these years Andrew  still has the first and only letter he’d ever written him, feels significant, “why?”

Andrew is quiet for a moment. 

“Because you gave it to me.” 

He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't have to.

When Aaron falls asleep a few minutes later, not a single piece of him feels alone.

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Nicky Hemmick's curse is that he loves too much btw. He wouldn't hurt half as much as he does if his heart didn't beat outside his chest for everyone and anyone to stomp on

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Ok but there 100% is a reason and that reason is misogyny.

I absolutely hate Katelyn for no reason. maybe because I ship Kevaaron but like I can’t read her name without getting mad.

.

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I love AFTG desperately but I genuinely think the main POV charactrs are the least interesting. Or well, that's not exactly it, but I KNOW their stories and I HAVE the explanations of how their minds work and I don't really need/want any more, y'know? The reason I can't seem to get this series out of my head is because there are SO MANY great side characters and I can't get them out of my head. I want to know EVERYTHING about them. I want their prequels. I want their futures. I want fanworks centered around them and their lives and perspectives (something that i've noticed are really hard to find? Any recs are always appreciated!) I love Neil and Andrew and Jean and Jeremy but WHERE are my Renee POVs? My Dan and Matt love stories (PLEASE I love them sm, I need to see how Matt got through to Dan when she was very much not interested in dating at the time)?Where are my Allison and Seth star crossed lovers tales? My Ananya/Cody/Pat fluff? My Thea Muldani healing journeys? My Nicky and Erik angst and hurt/comfort? My Wymack and Abby moments? Allison, Dan, and Renee's enemies to friends arc? The Vixens side adventures while the cheer for the Foxes? Betsy Dobson's backstory? Aaron Minyard's life with Tilda? Aaron Minyard's life in general? Aaron mending his relationship with Andrew (without him always being painted like he's in the wrong when Andrew has done some shitty things and routinely fails to give him any grace whatsoever)? Where is Katelyn falling for this grumpy guy in her first year bio lab? Where is Kevin day just trying to get THROUGH his day? Where is Maria's story of being trafficked 'rescued' and how it affected how she raised Nicky and views her husband? Where is my Wymack and Dan father/daughter moments? Wymack and Kevin's bio family journey? Where is my Xavier story? Where is my Stephanie Walker (who we only see ONCE in canon) taking in and loving teenager gangster Natalie SO much she becomes calm, faithful Renee? Where is Riko's pov villain origin story? Where is Erik's quiet distaste about how Nicky's cousins and teammates consistently and brutally shit on him and devalue him when all he does is love them? Where is Mary Howard's life on the run? Where is Stuart's memories of his sister? Where is Mary and Nathaniel's marriage and how Neil came to be? Where can I read how Cat and Laila met and fell in love? About Laila's family and backstory? How Allison broke away from her parents? How Abby became a fox (she's their nurse but no one who works with the team has a squeaky clean past. Wymack's parents were wicked, but how did Abby end up at Palmetto?) Hell, I would read the dean of Edgar Allen's pov of realizing he has no control over the Nest and the panic and anger at the implications it has for his career and I'd read it GREEDILY. I'd read Kayleigh Day and her friendship with Tetsuji Moriyama and the birth of exy and i'd SCREAM. I want these characters and their lives and their stories without Andreil or Jerejean always being the focus. I've seen the core romances, I've read them a thousand times over, and I don't want to read them anymore. I want to read the LIFE, y'know? So many compelling characters and details and I can't find enough of any of them. There's more to the series than the main ships and I wish I could find more content about it. Give me stories centered around the dozens of brilliant and compelling side characters, I'm BEGGING

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Thea Muldani they could never make me hate you.

You’re telling me one of two female Ravens, who survived the Nest and all that it entails, who still has to fight for recognition in a sport she dominates at because she’s a black woman playing alongside white people, the majority of whom are men, is forever a villain because…she is a victim of the same cult as Kevin and Jean and it left her with trauma and a fucked up worldview just like it did them? She’s irredeemable because…she repeated the victim blaming attitudes of the cult she was raised in? Because she never healed from that trauma or began to unpack it because she doesn’t recognize it as traumatic because that’s how fucked up the nest is? Because she survived abuse the only way she could and isn’t a perfect victim? Because she will always be judged harsher by everyone than the brooding white cis male characters because she’s a gnc black woman? Nope, sorry. Andrew and Neil have literally murdered people and they don’t get half as much hate as Thea gets for being cold and repeating Raven talking points. Misogynoir at work, that’s all it is, full stop. If you can’t see Thea as a complex character who deserves to heal from her trauma and grow just as much as Kevin and Jean and Neil and Andrew then don’t pretend you care about the series focus on depicting trauma and healing, don’t pretend you’re a feminist, and don’t pretend you’re not being racist if you can’t recognize that.

Thea Muldani deserves better. She deserved a true place in the original series instead of being reduced to a plot device, she deserves nuance, she deserves the exploration and growth and healing that the main male cast get. She deserves for her story to be told and treated with the same respect given to Neil and Jean and Jeremy’s. She deserves to heal. To grow. To love.

I don’t ship KevThea, because Kevin and Thea are the characters that (arguably) are still the most stuck in the Raven mindset and they need to unlearn their cult conditioning, and being together romantically would probably be antithetical to the healing they need to do and they’d probably fall into old habits and make each other worse. But I do think Thea has a place in Kevin’s life, like Jean does, and I hope the Kevin series is dual pov and we also get Thea’s point of view because she deserves that. I could even see them having a decent romance if the series focused on their individual healing journey’s and supporting each other as friends and rebuilding a solid foundation of trust and mutual respect instead of unhealthy Raven codependency and an volatile mixture of envy and awe.

Thea Muldani deserves better. She deserves her own story. She deserves the respect and love every other character is treated with.

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You’ll never convince me that Betsy Dobson isn’t more wary of Renee Walker than Andrew or Neil or the rest of the foxes combined. She’s a smart lady. She knows Andrew isn’t a danger to her, and even if he was, she understands his trauma enough to be confident in handling him. With Neil, she knows she freaks him out and she knows that even if he dislikes her he’d never ever do anything to hurt Andrew and so Neil is no threat. And sure, there’s some violent tendencies in Neil and his upbringing left him lacking in some key empathetic areas but Neil loved exy enough he left the yakuza and it’s clear he’s not really into being the dangerous son of a crime lord unless he has to be. Oh no, Betsy Dobson has dealt with many difficult cases in her career and seen pretty much everything under the sun and neither Andrew Minyard nor Neil Josten spark any sort of unease in her.

But Renee Walker? Woooooo boy, does that girl leave her on edge.

Betsy has dealt with everything. She once spent an afternoon filling in colouring books with a nine year old psychopath who was in a secure psychiatric unit after stabbing his mother to death with a pair of scissors. She’s counselled many a criminal. Profiled serial killers.

And yet, no falsely charming grin or cold sharklike eyes have ever unnerved Betsy as much as Renee Walker’s calm stare and quiet candor and seemingly genuine faith, all wrapped up in her rainbow streaked hair and the blood on her hands, the glimmer of something a less well trained person might call madness living behind her retinas, dark and all consuming, churning, churning, churning.

Renee is lovely. She often brings new teas for Betsy to try and they are both attempting to take up crochet together (Renee is currently doing a lot better than her). They talk often, about the bad and the good, the past and the present, Renee’s plans for the future.

And yet. Betsy still remains quietly unnerved, because one day Renee Walker is going to snap. And Betsy isn’t sure she wants to know what Renee will do when the time comes.

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I genuinely can't see Kevin ever calling Wymack dad. Like ever. I think knowing he's his bio dad and knowing he is loved and cared for by Wymack is enough for Kevin, but Wymack did not raise him and. he did not start trying to play dad when he found out and to me that is what makes their relationship so bittersweet, because Wymack is always going to be Kevin's coach and he's always going to be his father but he's never going to be his dad and they will always know it and they will never be able to change it and it will always be a gulf between them neither of them can ever begin to bridge

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I would kill for a Renee POV book btw, but I'd settle for a good Renee POV fic. She FASCINATES me. Her story is metal as fuck. Canonically she can easily beat Andrew in a fight. Everyone listens to her. Her hair is dyed like rainbows. She's a bad person trying very hard to a be a good one. What I wouldn't give to read her story. I need to see her meeting Stephanie Walker. I need to see her journey from gang member to daughter. I need to see when exactly she called Stephanie her mother for the first time. I need to see her discovering her faith. I need to see the evolution of her and Dan and Allison's friendship that first year. PLEASE

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The Vixens are so criminally underrated. They cheer for the lowest rated team in NCAA exy who are treated as a joke. They're the cheerleaders of punching bags and the players they cheer for are usually ambivalent to them at best or explicitly ungrateful at worse. Yet they show up and cheer their best anyway. Yeah it's their 'job' and their chance to show off their own hard work but they still show up. They invite the Foxes to parties and weather the bullshit the foxes bring to the PSU teams without complaint. I will forever love the vixens.