* off the deep end.

maksym petran. sky montgomery.  buzz barton. ajax anderson. ashley mills.

[waywcrdsons-blog]

waywcrdsons‌:

haven’t decided if I’m gonna reapply after the revamp, so add me on discord so we don’t lose touch!!

EDIT: 

I definitely will not be returning for valdez 2.0, so again, if anyone would like to keep in touch, feel free to add me above if we’re not already mutuals on discord. if anyone wishes to keep writing with me i’m in the process of redoing my indie so I’ll be adding revamped versions of my characters without any ties to valdez over at @sinsoakedsaints​!! 

i’ll probably keep this blog up as an archive so feel free to unfollow it but i won’t be reachable on here as soon as i’ve moved what i want to over to my indie.

big thanks to all u cute as a button players who made my past few months in the group amazing for me with your talent, enthusiasm and interest in writing with my garbage sons. i’ve truly treasured the laughs, the memes and the gut punching feels that have been inflicted on me during my time here and i’m grateful i made some baller ass ride or die new friends.

[waywcrdsons-blog]

haven’t decided if I’m gonna reapply after the revamp, so add me on discord so we don’t lose touch!!

[yennciri]

[waywcrdsons-blog]

MAKS ⇋ RICHARD.

He wasn’t shy in allowing those around him to be aware of how new he was in town, it wasn’t as though he believed it could be used against him. Then again, a lot of his previous beliefs had been pried open and changed already, since he’d moved to Valdez. 

Not that he regretted it, he never regretted much of anything ( at least that’s what he’d always assure everyone whom asked. )

“Always. Who’d say no to that?” As if Richard James could ever turn down a drink, his smile is almost warm as he outstretches his hand, “Richard James. Or Rich.” He introduces himself, wanting to make himself at least a little more established in the community.

 “I’ll get the next round in, I’m all about fairness.” It was a stretch to say that was completely true, but what was the point of arriving in a new town if you couldn’t reinvent yourself? 

Maks glanced from the hand offered to the man who it was attached to, finding himself surprised by the pleasantry. It would seem civility wasn’t completely dead in their shared town. 

Taking Richard’s hand in his own, Maks gave it a firm shake as his father had taught him from a young age, though his was void of the menacing undertone that made his old man’s so stern. 

“It is nice to meet you, Richard. Maksym Petran, most call me Maks.” 

He let go before making his way to the bar, indicating to the bartender that his request would be covered by the man in his company -- something that earned some genuine gratitude from the special operative. 

“A double vodka straight please, thank you. And for you?” He inquires, head tilted from the waiting server to Richard. 

[waywcrdsons-blog]

BUZZ ⇋ ROMAN.

Roman schooled his features to remain impassive — calm, collected he was as devoid of emotion as a stone statue you might find in a public garden. Roman was like the boulders on a beach shore; strong and unyielding against the waves of Buzz’s anger. He deserved it, he knew that better than anybody. The blonde haired assassin had every right to spit his gratitude back in his face, because he didn’t deserve it or want it.

When he had received the call from the police station, alerting him that his boyfriend was currently being held in contempt in one of their cells, he never in a million years expected to be seen as the knight in shining armour in this story — he was always more suited for the role of backstabbing traitor, anyway.

❝ Would you have rather I left you inside to fester on your anger? ❞ Roman sighed, lifting his gaze to meet the storm in Buzz’s. It was the least I could do, he thought, but the words would never meet the light of day. He was treading on thin ice already, he could feel it cracking under the pressure of his words, it would only take one wrong word to the make the ice crumble.

“Yes!” Buzz says loudly, his words punctuated with a loud clap of his hands. If he had a buzzer he would have made it go ding, ding, ding to signal that finally, Roman and he were on the same page. 

(As irregular occurrence as a solar eclipse these days, he believes.) 

“Cause at least then shit’s normal. You’re way too late to come rushing in and think I’m gonna give a shit that you’re still breathing.” 

A rare retreat, Buzz steps back, putting a safe space between them as he considers his options. He would walk home mad because he had no money on him and likely get into a fight, or he could go with Roman and limit the potential faces he might punch down to one. 

“You drive here or what?”

[waywcrdsons-blog]

AJAX ⇋ CAMILLA.

A FINAL NOTE before the crowd erupts into whistles and musical claps.    camilla is exiting off the stage with a glittering cyan gown.    her hair in loose curls to fit her show attire.     she’s incredibly humble as she’s showered in compliments, head dipping in thanks but movements are slightly — skiddish.    the westwood is after her next high.      but she knows of her brothers arrival and a clear head is on her horizon.     tall frame has no trouble finding the seat of a bar stool.    “ did you enjoy it? ”    camilla asks quietly, manicured nails taking hold of the glass that’s slipped into her hand by the bartender.    “ my songs? ”   always ever so curious of others opinions.  *   @waywcrdsons​  ft. ajax

Jax was well aware that the lounge was a spot he shouldn’t be. Strictly under Savages control, just crossing the threshold was like extending an invitation to trouble and seeing what would bite -- but damn if he didn’t appreciate the whiskey and crooning combination enough to take the risk. 

He was on his second drink of the evening when he was addressed, turning slightly on the stool he occupied. The vision from the stage was just as enchanting and commanding stood by the bar, though that didn’t wasn’t cause for surprise. 

(When he had been a pimp he had made a habit of trying to poach some of the lounge employees for his brothel, those days seeming like a distant memory despite it only being a matter of months.) 

“I did, in fact. But I’ve always thought you had a wonderful voice, Camilla.”

A lifetime spent in Valdez made names and faces easier to place. 

[waywcrdsons-blog]

buzz, favorite thing about sloane?

FUCK ‘EM UP. | NOT ACCEPTING.

“How the fuck am I supposed to pick one thing? Knob. I’ll narrow it down for you though. I love that she’s the only person who’s ever used my real name and not made it sound like an insult. I dig that she’s got a sick sense of humour, and by that I mean fucking twisted. She says some shit that makes me feel for the length of a punchline that I’m a nice, well adjusted person. That’s not easy do. And I can tell you something for nothing, I’m not fucking easy to love. And I’m definitely no walk in the fucking park to live with either, but she still said yeah when I asked her to move in. Said why the fuck not when I said come with me to this one horse fucking town,” Buzz monologues, pausing only to scratch the side of his nose with his index finger as he tries to narrow down years worth of examples into compact, easily digestible tidbits. 

“She’s fearless and impulsive. Imagine every day starting and ending like the best coke high you’ve ever ridden but you could be stone cold sober. I love that she’s not perfect but she’s perfect for me. There’s this scar on her back, I love seeing it. ‘Cause I might as well be a roadmap of all the ways a body can get stabbed, sliced, punched, split open and stitched back together without being fatal. Reminds me we been down some similar roads,” He recounts, already sharing more than he would have liked to – he preferred to keep every part of her to himself. 

“If I ever find the cunt that did it I’m gonna string him up and let her carve her name into his skin with the most jagged piece of glass I can find. First, middle and surname.” 

Straightening his back, he stretched his arms out, sure that he’s sat for far too long. He couldn’t recall the last time he had engaged with a conversation outside of one shared with the person he was talking about for this amount of time. 

“I think it’s pretty wicked how her day can dictate mine. I could be having the worst of the worst, job gone wrong, body stinking up my trunk ‘cause I haven’t decided where the fuck to get rid of it and I’m about ready to put the next person that looks at me funny in the ground she can come waltzing over in one of her minxy moods and before I know it I’m actually laughing about it. To cut a long spiel short, if you find someone you can laugh with, fuck, fuck with, kill with, kill for and they’re willing to sacrifice everything for you? I reckon it’s worth the grafting that comes with the day in, day out shit. Also, her arse.”

[pssionfrvits]

& BOOOANE

he’s found it.

it’s the single blemish of imperfect along sloane’s miles of smooth, golden skin—-  each curve just right, even the freckles across her stomach becoming a point of pride than the point of insecurity she viewed them as in her youth. unlearning the toxicity of her upbringing is a difficult task, but the notion that she had to be beautiful, flawless still plagues her conscience. silky, vibrant locks, taut stomach, coy smile ;  when your livelihood depends upon the richest man taking home the prettiest toy, it’s difficult to suddenly become okay with yourself.

Keep reading

[captainevans]

get you a man who can do both

[cfganglands-blog]

❝ Most of us were not violent by nature. ❞ saoirse/ashley

💀 SONS OF ANARCHY SENTENCE PROMPTS ! @waywcrdsons

Saoirse tilted her head, her features softening into something almost maternal in nature. A sympathy washing over her as she leaned in toward him. ❝ I’m not asking you to be. ❞ A promise, tender in it’s delivery. Meant to coax away his fears, and let him feel at ease. ❝ All I want is for you to be safe from those who are. ❞ She said over the gun between them, not knowing if the boy in front of her could or would be able to pull the trigger if necessary. And genuinely hoping he’d never have to find out. Saoirse stood up, rounding the table to perch herself on the desk in front of him and hiding the gun with her body. ❝ If it makes you uncomfortable, nothing has to come of it. ❞  Saoirse gestured, waving her hands through the air to emphasis her point before one landed gently on his shoulder.  ❝I want you to know it’s an option, if you ever need it. Just like you can come to me for anything else, if you ever need it. ❞

[cfganglands-blog]

nashley ●

SEND A SYMBOL FOR A CORRESPONDING PROMPT/STARTER.[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings.

“Condoms are in the top drawer of my bedside table,” Nikki said from her doorway, holding the towel to her bare chest when she’d caught him. Her expression sitting somewhere between confused and smug. “Easy access.”

She didn’t know what Ashley was rummaging through her drawers for, but there wasn’t really anything she wouldn’t share with him if he asked. “Don’t open the bottom one though, unless you want to be scarred for life.”

[cfganglands-blog]

❝Hmm, quite the predicament you’re in.❞ emery/maks

cruel intentions → sentence meme

The fall had been unsavable, no way to play it off as intentional or even something she could play off with a laugh. Her foot had slipped in the remains of what seemed to be water someone spilled on the floor. Her back, and head, hit the floor so hard she swore her head bounced against the hardwood. Embarrassment coating over every feature when his voice rung out. He was probably here to see Sloane, and got a front row seat to her humiliation. No one looked good falling onto their back that hard. God, she could only imagine the faces she made on the way down. 

Bringing her hands up to her face, she covered it the whole thing in an attempt to hide from the reality. 

❝ It’s fine! I’m fine! Never been better!❞ Her voice pitched up two octaves at least  before her hands found themselves back at her side. Just leave me here to die of shame. 

[cfganglands-blog]

💍 harlow/maks hehe

SEND ME A SYMBOL send 💍 for my muse to find a box with an engagement ring in it.

About three years ago. 

It’s early in the morning, four am and she’s just finishing clean up at the bar. It had been a rough night, sitting with her mom at a walk in clinic for six hours only for them to send her home with some antibiotics and no real answers. Before returning to do some left over clean up that the staff had missed. It’s the fifth time in a month and something in her knows that something is deeply wrong. Her mom rarely got sick, so to be in and out of hospitals every few weeks was not just odd. It was a warning sign. Something was happening, and whatever it was wasn’t good. Turning her keys in the door, she crept in with silent steps knowing he’d be asleep in their bed after she told him not to wait up. That they’d be there a while and just to go to sleep, she’d promised to be there to kiss him good morning even if she wasn’t there to say goodnight. 

Dropping her keys in the dish, she hung up her coat and slipped off her shoes with all the grace of a last call regular. Pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it in the laundry basket along with the rest of her clothes. Stripping the day and all it’s disappointments off with them. 

Looking over from the dresser, she could see his sleeping form in the moonlight from their window and a smile finds itself so easily on her face. Which might have been the reason that instead of throwing on one of her old t-shirts, she opened his drawer instead. Wanting to sleep wrapped up in his scent. An exhausted hand moved around in the drawer, pushing things aside to find a soft button down when it hit the box instead. 

Where her eyes had been half closed and tired a moment ago, feeling that box was like a splash of cold water directly to her face. 

Logic said she should have left it there, taken out a shirt from the top and went to bed. 

Logic lost. 

Bringing it to the top, she looked over to make sure he was still sleeping. Hazel eyes looking for any slight movement before temptation caused her to prop it open. 

“Fuck,” She extended in a whisper, the ring breathtaking even in the low light. It was everything she wanted in a ring. Speaking not only to her tastes, but to how he saw her. Beautiful, catching even the dimmest of lights and shining within it. It knocked the wind right out of her, her body frozen and mind racing. 

A shift in the covers catches her attention, looking over to see him stir before quickly closing the box and putting it back as deep as it had been a moment before. She grabs one of his t–shirts instead, not bothering with buttons as she slowly closed the drawer, not trying to make any unnecessary sounds. 

Her heart was racing as she slipped into bed beside him, an arm encircling her like the ring in the box she couldn’t stop thinking about. 

[cfganglands-blog]

✦ amma/buzz

SEND A SYMBOL FOR A CORRESPONDING PROMPT/STARTER. [ ✦ ] my muse pushes yours out of frustration/anger.

As her back hit the wall a thought ran through her head, as well as a feeling of deja vu. She wished she could have picked the limited emotions she felt. Cherry picking them in her mind as she stared across from the brother she’d been egging on for the past fifteen minutes. 

She would have kept anger, just for moments like this. Family bonding as dysfunctional as the people inside of it. Anger was the single thing that tied them so closely together, threaded through them like the singular red cord of the blood they shared.

Keep reading

[murios]

❛ the last time i tortured somebody, they didn’t even have chainsaws! ❜ nina/buzz

❛  chainsaw torture sounds super messy.  ❜  

one might expect such a response to be delivered with disgust and accompanied by a cringe, but her tone is bright and filled with curiosity instead  ——  nina might as well be drooling over the thought. her weapon of choice is a static blade, no power source necessary. she revels in the way a knife feels in her hand, the weight of it, the control. not to mention being up-close-and-personal  ——  having a front row seat to watch the light in a victim’s eyes as it fades and is ultimately snuffed out, and the warmth of their life force dripping over her hand like a carmine curtain. 

she’s been sitting there picking at her nails with the tip of one of her blades — this particular one having become decidedly too dull for her liking — and her eyes close on a sigh as she imagines the scene; the powered chain penetrating flesh and the bright red spray that it would produce, the hazy copper cloud hanging in the air. in her mind’s eye the sight is delightful. but this reverie is interrupted when the knife slips slightly — fingers unsteady in her distraction. with a quiet ow she opens her eyes to see a red bead pearling from under her thumbnail, and she pops the digit into her mouth to suck crimson from beneath the nail before it smears further. 

once he has her attention again, it’s with a manic gaze and blood-stained gums in a cheshire smile, and nina leans forward on propped elbows, chin resting on her knuckles.

          ❛  tell me about it——   ❜      she purrs the words. it’s not commiseration, but a plea, begging for the story behind the comment with a lascivious sort of longing. there’s a rougher quality to her voice now, her own imagination stirring something carnal within her, and nina laughs darkly.    ❛   ——in extreme detail,   if you don’t mind.  ❜  

MEMES  ———  @waywcrdsons

[cfganglands-blog]

❝ So you stole an ambulance? ❞ ashley/nikki

💀 SONS OF ANARCHY SENTENCE PROMPTS ! @waywcrdsons

❝ I’m sensing some judgment in your tone and I don’t appreciate it. ❞ Nikki said putting the keys down on the counter. She’d parked it three blocks away in an empty lot, hoping it would be enough to distance herself from it while still being able to go back and get all the loot she’d stuffed into the back.  ❝ It was that or a school bus, and the sirens allowed me to speed through traffic. ❞

Next time she’d go for the school bus though, for variety. 

❝ Are you going to come with me or not? ❞

[cfganglands-blog]

👂skylow

SEND ME A SYMBOLsend 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

“No you don’t get it,” Harlow spoke to her company in the back stock room of the Church the door held closed by her body wait as she tried to keep her voice level. “Sky is a good man, a better man than I deserve. Than anyone in this town deserves.” Her voice raises in spite of itself, unaware of anyone that could be listening on the other side of it. She takes a breath, collecting herself again before sinking back into that hollow tone she’s known for these days. “He’s funny and attentive and he goes out of his way to be kind to me when he doesn’t have too. He knows how to make you feel, warm inside.”“He is one of the most loyal men I know. A man attempting to be good despite where he is.”  Harlow brought her fingers to her mouth, a tell tale sign of anxiety.“And the days I see him? They’re the best days.”“So what you’re asking me to make him to do is over the line.” A gesture, cutting through the air with her hand as if drawing the line herself. “I’ll help you, always. Without question.”

“I have no problems getting my hands dirty or dredging through the dirt. I belong there.”  She said with a firm stance. Harlow had single handedly isolated herself without even knowing she was doing it. She had broken hearts, and left people hanging, and distrusted people who might not have even deserved it. She wasn’t a good person. But she knew one when she saw it. “But I won’t drag him down with me.”