#corruptedgavel

[oldladyisms]

                          “ — y’seen Jax, Clay? ” She wasn’t even sure why she was asking, Clay would lie for his stepson, more than likely, like everyone else had, but she hadn’t even HEARD from Jax in nearly three days, and while she knew she wasn’t going to want to hear the answer, about where her husband was, she still had to ask. “ If he’s with some croweater, just tell me. Please. ”

@corruptedgavel​ ♥’d for a starter via @ofodinn

[oldladyisms]

[ @corruptedgavel cont ]

Clay had seen everything that happened at Donna’s funeral, after that even. Jax was going to be difficult for a while, that he could tell. Tara being back, it was messing with his head already. They were all back at the clubhouse now, for some meal or something that Gemma had wanted to do. Clay still was sickened by what he had happened with Donna. On the outside, he was cool and collected. It wasn’t his fault, it was Stahl’s, but he knew he’d made a bad call.

He’d not seen Jax since the cemetery but he stepped out back and that’s when he saw Wendy and he lit up his cigar, nodding at her. He’d always liked Wendy. “You okay?” He didn’t ask how many people were, but she’d seemed not real happy about what happened at the funeral.

At her response, he sighed.

“Jax doesn’t think straight, you know. The funeral wasn’t the place for that. If it helps, I always liked you more. Gemma does too, just don’t tell her I told you that. You know how she is.”

                         Donna was gone. And no, they hadn’t been close in awhile, but there had been a point when Donna had been the best friend she’d ever had. They’d been close as sisters, junior and senior years high school, and even when she’d gotten back to Charming, in spite of the fact that Donna had been married and settled and domestic and shit, they’d still been close, again. She’d helped babysit Kenny and Ellie. She’d helped Donna stay sane, while Opie was inside. And it was only after a particularly nasty fight with Donna about her partying getting a little out of hand that she’d pulled away. There had been a small reprieve to that, when she’d gotten back from rehab, and it was Donna who had taken her to the first few doctor’s appointments when she was pregnant with Abel, but they’d drifted again. Opie was back, and Jax was gone, and Opie, obviously, had sided with Jax, and Donna had gotten pulled into that. She didn’t blame her. But it meant that when Donna died, she hadn’t really ever had a chance to try to make things right with her. She hadn’t fixed their friendship. And she now she never could.

And the stupid shit Jax pulled at the funeral was just...icing on that cake. And as much as she knew she needed to keep herself on her path, she also knew that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. Even if she got her shit together, even if she was clean and around, even if Gemma wanted to try to use her to push Tara out, it wouldn’t matter. Jax had Tara back. He wouldn’t want anyone else, and it wouldn’t take long for Tara to worm her way into his brain, and all his talk about wanting her to be in Abel’s life would end. She knew that. She knew Tara. Insecure and petty. That was Tara fucking Knowles. And her being back, her demanding Jax’s attention again, her wanting to be in control of everything in Jax’s life just...was the writing on the wall. She was never going to get her family back. She was never going to have that. She was never going to get to be Abel’s mom, if Tara had her way, if she got Jax to think that he didn’t want it either.

So why bother staying clean? Why bother with that fucking half-way house? She hated that shit, hated communal living like that. There was no point. And she was half way to figuring out how to get herself enough cash to go score something- she didn’t even give a shit what- when Clay appeared, spoke to her.

She’d always loved Clay. He was like her- not really a part of the family, but clinging to the edges. A replacement for JT as much as she was a replacement for Tara. And she figured he saw that, too. That he knew that, too. But they’d never spoken about it. It was just this unspoken understanding. And his reassurance that he liked her better did bring a smile to her lips, because she believed that- although she was less sure that Gemma liked her better so much as Gemma knew she wasn’t a threat to her. But the faint smile was as far as it went.

          “ It doesn’t matter. You know that, Clay. You remember what he’s like, with her. I could stick around, for my son, and maybe be go from being his wife to being his piece on the side, again. Or I can just... ” She had to swallow down a sudden overwhelming need to cry, eyes falling, fingers fumbling for a cigarette, anything to mask that she was starting to fall apart. “ I can just...accept that stuck up skank is gonna be the woman my son thinks of a mother. And go away. I’m sure Jax would much rather that. Less trouble. ”

[originalkingofsamcro]

“STOP PRETENDING TO BE OK!” -corruptegavel

first off: why you hurt me this way))JT stared back at his oldest friend, then sank onto the workbench, worn out. “You know how it is Clay, you gotta put up a front or people think you’re weak.” He muttered, running a shaking hand through his hair.

[charmingsrisingson-blog]

Harsh Words || @corruptedgavel 

“You’re a disappointment..”

The words rang in his ears like a siren, but one that he would blatantly ignore or rather counter. 

“Oh yeah?” Jax scoffed. Jaw clenched. Eyes turning into slits. 

“Jus’ ‘cause you wanna write cheques that your ass can’t cash an’ think its good business to let us drabble in guns an’ drugs to earn a keep when we could be doin’ that shit legitimately with the garage front.. Sure.. I’m a REAL disappointment alright.” 

[gatekeepcr]

             fingers claw at the gaping hole , warm blood soaking through her shirt , a slick coating over her fingers. despite a lifetime of gun-toting , never once had she been shot. she'd seen the wounds , but this god , it hurt more than anything she could remember. it was ripping her apart , drawing ragged breaths from parted lips. he wasn't going to let her die , was he ? he wouldn't let his wife's life slip away in a mingled pool of blood , glazed-eyes staring at the wall of mugshots.

            when the first shots rang out , tig shoved her behind the pool table. and gemma was grateful for the cover. but as the fight went on , and her lines of defense began to fall , gemma had made a move to grab her purse. a fatal mistake that was. she'd taken a gunshot to the abdomen , and no one even noticed until the room fell silent.

            the taste of iron coated her tongue , ragged breaths hissing between her teeth , ❝  clay ?  ❞ she gasps , clutching at his hand  drawing him close. somewhere in the distance , someone was screaming for tara , begging her to come quick. gemma couldn't bring herself to focus on that either , only the pair of blue eyes before her. she winces , a groan drawn between her lips , ❝  those FUCKING cowards. ❞ the pool of blood was growing , a deadly halo around the matriarch , ❝  i'm fine. it'll be fine.  ❞ she'd always been a good LIAR.

@corruptedgavel from here

[thoseanarchygirls-a]

@corruptedgavel

Valentina rode to SAMCRO on her new Harley, some punk kids messed with her engine and needed to get it fixed. When she walked into the office, there he was. She saw the myth, the man, the legend, Clay Morrow. She was wondering if he would recognize her from when she ran around the club with her sister and Jax. “Hey, my Harley is having some problems. Was wondering if you could check it out.”

[pistolsmith-blog]

     things have changed. Clay has changed, and Tig hasn’t quite caught on to why--      why he doesn’t seem to matter anymore, where once he’d been his right hand man; why Clay doesn’t trust him, has him on bitch duty, on Prospect duty. he digs through his brain with pliers, trying to figure out what he might have done wrong, where he could have fallen short on his duties, and yet, he emerges with nothing to show for it.       his usually harsh expression has mellowed out, face smoothed over into a look of near-despair as he thinks, wrench held limply in hand. the sound of approaching footsteps rouses him from his reverie, and he blinks, looking up at the king himself. there’s a momentary thought of pretending, of shrugging it off and pretending that whatever crisis Clay is having doesn’t piss him off, isn’t a betrayal --       but Tig has never been that mild-mannered.            “  everything’s good under the hood here, Clay.  “       pale eyes meet Clay’s, unflinching, testing. will he address it ?? or pretend it’s all just fine ??            “  -- just what did i do to shove such a stick up your ass about me, Clay ?? i must’ve done something to put me in the red, you won’t stop shoving me on bitch duty. c’mon, man, i’m sergeant for a fuckin’ reason, aren’t i ??  “