#Wendy Case

[texaschainsawmascara]

Drea De Matteo

[dannypinot]

↪MAYANS MC 5.09 — 'I Must Go Now for the Fog is Rising'

[samcrosfaith]

Sons of Anarchy 🥀

just a random SOA post about my favorite characters because why not? I so miss this show.

[garbinge]

Snow Angel

Wendy Case & F!Reader Nero Padilla & F!Reader Jax Teller x F!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 3.5k words A/N: This is a really heavy fic. Inspired by the song Snow Angel by Renee Rapp

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, DEPRESSION, ADDICTION, ABUSE, SELF HARM, DRUGS, ALCOHOL, MAIN CHARACTER DEATH, INSINUATES READER DEATH, this is an extremely heavy fic, like probably the darkest, heaviest fic I’ve ever written. This is everything not to do when coping and grieving.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics (have been a bit inactive on tumblr so this might not be up to date, if you'd like to be added to my SOA taglist please shoot me a message!)

After Jax’s funeral you left California. You were sure that there were whispers around Charming about you, that you were running away, not facing your destiny, not stepping up. But none of that mattered to you. The entire state weighed too much on you, the memories, his memory, it was like a feeling that hit you when you entered state lines. When you left, you thought the feeling would fade, that maybe you could go back to normal, back to who you were two years ago before you met Jax, before you fell in love with him. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. You were 3,000 miles away but shortly after your first week back out east, you realized that even though Jax’s memory was littered all over California, he was here with you too. Most people kept that thought close to their hearts, it offered comfort to most who were mourning, the idea that no matter what someone is always with you in your heart, but with where you were at in the grieving process, you wanted nothing to do with the memory of Jax Teller. 

That was the first month. 

The second month was the opposite. You searched for anything that reminded you of him. The regret of leaving the one place where you’d be able to find him anywhere, where you’d be surrounded by so many opportunities to reminisce was drowning you. It pained you so much that you made a memorial for him in your backyard. It wasn’t much, a small 12x6 stone with his name, birthday, and death day engraved on it. It was placed in the dirt right in front of the only tree in your yard, it allowed for flowers to be placed along with any other mementos you wanted. You visited it everyday, you sat in your yard while the leaves turned orange, and even though the days blended together, you made sure to fill each day with a phone call to Wendy, Nero, and the kids, a backyard chat with Jax’s memorial, or making your home feel more like home with pictures from your time in Charming. 

The third month was…different from the ones prior. The leaves had left the trees completely and everything felt empty. You were barely home, out with people you barely knew, using alcohol as a suppressant. You stopped returning most of your calls, only answering Wendy’s on occasion to talk with Abel, but truthfully, every time her’s or Nero’s name popped up on your phone, your heart dropped, you felt it in your gut every time. You were never fully coherent when the calls came so you weren’t sure if your gut sinking feeling was the heaviness of being reminded of your past, what you knew would be disappointment from them of your current actions and state, or because deep down in your drunken subconscious you thought it’d be Jax every time you felt your phone go off. 

The fourth month was a combination of all the months before it. The trees were still just as bare, the air was a bit more chill. You hated Charming just as much as you missed it. On your walk to work, you’d see Harleys on the street and smile despite knowing none of them would ever be the one biker you wished. After work, you’d go to happy hours with your coworkers, now it seemed that small talk and two strong martinis could numb a lot of the emotion. On your way home from it all, you’d talk to Wendy, the kids. But never Nero, you knew he’d bring you back to a reality that you just couldn’t face currently. The other thing you avoided was the memorial. Like clockwork, you wrapped up your call with Wendy as you walked up your back steps and made sure your eyesight never fell on the stone, never fell on the single oak tree. 

The fifth month, this one felt like the month where it was unacceptable to feel anything anymore. All your new friends who never experienced loss the way you had were probably tired of being around someone that carried a cloud with them. Wendy had invited you to one of her family’s parties close to where you lived. You knew she had family out east, but when she had shared the invitation with you, it was shocking to see just how close. It’d be your first time seeing everyone, and to your surprise, you were looking forward to going, to be around people who understood your grief. What’s misery without company, right? You were the first to arrive, the only others being there were those who were living or staying in the house, Wendy being one of them. Despite her smile and embrace making you feel better for just a millisecond, it was quickly washed away when you saw how normal everyone was acting. Sure, half of Wendy’s family wasn’t neck-deep in depression over the man they never met, but Wendy was, well, she was thriving. There were no signs of drugs, she was drinking ginger ale all night, not a drop of alcohol, her laughs were echoing in your head. You tried to mimic it as you stood in the same conversation as her but you felt your breath hitch in your gut and nothing was coming out. It was a strange feeling to be happy for someone while also being insanely jealous of them as well. But despite any of that, you were still the last to leave the party. 

After hugging Wendy goodbye, you grabbed your coat, ready to leave. As you skipped down the steps of her aunt’s building, you stepped on the sidewalk, hands in your pocket as the cold shivered down your spine. Looking up, you saw how the sky looked dark but light at the same time, a sign that snow was coming, and you were right. A few flurries fell and it was followed by more heavy ones. They’d make a great addition to the snow that was already on the ground, but that silent 2AM snowfall was the real hero of the night. It was peaceful, calming, after being in a room where it was hard to breathe, the crisp, cold air filling your lungs in the silence of the winter night was everything you needed. 

As you approached your house, your hand moved to unlatch the gate to enter your backyard. It was like muscle memory, just an automated movement of coming home late in the night, head down in your thoughts before making it up the steps to your backdoor. But something about this night was different, maybe it was the silence of the night that moved to your head, it wasn’t consumed in thoughts which is why your muscle memory failed you. Your eyesight moved over to that one tall oak tree in your yard, and something deep red–almost brown below it. If it had been 20 minutes later the snow would have made it impossible to see, but it caught your eye. With a deep breath, you took a step down and made your way over to the memorial. As you got closer, you realized what caught your eye was a bouquet of dead roses, realizing that a lot of time had passed since you had stood here in front of the stone you put here to remember Jax. 

Squatting down, your hand extended out and brushed the snow off to read the words etched into the stone. Aside from his name and the dates, you forgot that you had etched in one of the things he had said to you, and likely written down in one of his many journals a year before he took his life. 

Find your own truth. It will lead you to the things you love. 

Reading it, it took you a minute to hear it in his voice, and truthfully that broke you a little bit. There was a time where you heard Jax’s voice in your head everyday, but somewhere along the way you stopped talking to him, stopping looking for him in your thoughts, in your day, and apparently that meant you had startecd to forget his voice. But when it suddenly filled your mind, you smiled and moved to sit down in the snow. Despite the smile, and the irony that you were quite literally sitting on ice, you felt the cold bring the rawness of your grief to the surface, thawing out after all these months of hiding it away. 

You went from squatting to completely laying in the snow now, sprawled out staring at the sky next to the memorial. 

“Been a minute.” You spoke up, talking to the sky. But it felt off, obviously you weren’t going to get a response but looking for him there just felt… empty. Your head turned to look at the memorial and your mind suddenly just pictured him there, laying next to you. 

“Still pretty as ever, darlin’.” His voice wasn’t the only thing filling your head, your imagination or maybe the couple drinks you had, were letting you visualize that trouble-making smile and baby blue eyes you could drown in. 

“What truth did I find?” You asked him, knowing that something had to have happened when you read the words on the stone. Something lead you to him. 

“That you can’t run from it.” He answered almost immediately. 

“You did.” Instictually, your eyes moved back to the sky, avoiding wanting to look him when you said those words. 

He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, he was changing the topic. 

“How’s the east coast treatin’ you?” You could hear the smile in his voice, like he knew that you probably hated it. 

“You know I fuckin’ hate it.” Your head snapped to look at him and the smile filled your face immediately as you saw him staring at you with a grin. 

“And yet, you’re lying here in the snow.” His eyebrows raised and his shoulders shrugged. 

You both knew why you were doing it. Why you were suffering through the pain just for a small moment of content with him. 

“I’ll make it through the winter if it kills me.” You said it more as a motivation, like you needed to hear the words to convince yourself of it. 

“Finding things that make you happy shouldn’t be hard.” His voice was serious, and it was the one you had come to know very well in the years of knowing him. That light and comedic personality was one that was rare and unfamiliar to you. It was what you tried to hold on to in these moments but it never stayed long. 

“I have things that make me happy.” Another statement where you were trying to convince yourself. 

“Drinking doesn’t count.” The smirk was back on his face. 

You were going to argue, tell him he wasn’t in the position to call the shots but instead you laughed. Because laughing made you happy. 

“Look, I’m trying.” With the sigh came the visible exhale of your breath and with it, the image of Jax in your head began to fade. 

“I know, darlin’.” His hand was extending out but then the memory of him faded in your head. 

Without giving it another second, you stood up, brushed the snow of of your back and forced herself inside. It took everything in you to go because with the overflow of emotion you were feeling, you knew what you had to do. It began with taking down most of the photos around your house, memories from Charming, pictures of you and Jax, pictures of you in the clubhouse, with the kids. You left some, a couple of photos of the past would seem acceptable, something to pass small talk over when new friends would come over. “Oh yea, that’s when I used to live in California, seems like a lifetime ago!” You knew you’d never mention that your ex-boyfriend was dead, that he drove his bike into a semi-truck on the 580 just like his late father. That really tended to put a damper on small talk, just like the abundance of reminders you had of this life in this house. 

You were rushing to clean it all up, if you sped through this maybe the healing would come just as quick. But that never worked. Speeding up the grief never did anyone any good, and maybe there was a piece of you that knew that, but there was another part of you, the part that tended to take over, that was hopeful, that was grasping at whatever you could to try and feel normal again. It was obvious you weren’t okay, if the tossing of memories into the depths of your closet in trash bags wasn’t enough of a sign, the washing down of your anti-depressants with a bottle of Jack was. But you were trying, wasn’t that enough to ask of you?

You woke up the next day on the couch, not sure if the sun or the headache was what woke you up so early but one thing was sure, you needed coffee. You trudged to the kitchen and poured what was left over in the pot into a mug and took a sip. Immediately you made a face and stuck your tongue out, moving to dump the mug and pot into the sink and put on something fresh. 

As you moved to put on a fresh pot and try and get the disgusting taste of stale, cold, coffee out of your mouth, there was a knock at your back door. Any other day you probably would have been a little more aware, look through the window to see who it was, hide and pretend no one was home, but instead you just added opening the back door to your many movements of swinging around the kitchen. 

As the door swang open, the person on the other side just stood on your back step as they watched you move around the kitchen. He wasn’t the type of person to just walk in without an invitation so he just stood there. 

“Early bird gets the worm, huh?” The sound of the man’s voice caused you to freeze. 

After what felt like eternity you turned to see Nero standing at your wide open back door, his arm perched on the frame as he waited patiently. 

He looked inside, down the hallway-like kitchen you lived in, his way of asking to be let in. 

“Uhm, hi, come in.” You moved to the side and waved him in. 

“Wasn’t able to make it to the party last night, I told Wendy I’d stay with the boys while she saw her family but I wanted to stop by and see you before we headed back home.” He didn’t make the move to hug you as he walked by, just let his hand sit on your shoulder for a few seconds before taking a seat at your kitchen table. 

“You want coffee? I just put on a fresh pot.” At the mention of the kids you wanted to scream. You just worked hard to push this part of your life away and here it was banging on your door. Okay exaggeration, knocking, knocking on your door. 

“Yea coffee’s good.” Nero nodded, looking completely comfortable in your kitchen like this was a common event. 

The pot was still brewing so you just stood there watching the coffee drip into the pot. 

“How’d you like it?”

“How are you?” 

You both spoke at the same time. Nero thought it was funny while you stood there feeling sick to your stomach. 

“However you make it is fine.” He smiled. 

“I put a shit ton of sugar in mine.” You reached to grab it from the counter above the machine. 

“That’s fine.” He lifted his hands up nonchalantly. 

“So, how are you?” 

“I’m good, got this job downtown, I go to meetings and happy hours, put data in powerpoints.” You normally would speak this so sarcastically because you hated every second of it but you wanted to be convincing to Nero and that meant smiling and brushing off his questions of concern.

“Guess that’s why I haven’t talked to you in a while, you’re busy living the American Dream.” He teased. 

“Yea sorry, life just been so crazy, I try to call the boys once a week.” The pot was finally done and you started to pour the liquid into two mugs. 

Truthfully, you stopped talking to him because it’s easier to lie when you don’t have to say anything. You continued to bullshit your way through this conversation with him.

It was your average boring catch up conversation, until he said the words that caused you to snap. 

“Jax wouldn’t want you living this way.” 

The words echoed in your head, they bounced against your brain just like his voice from last night. “Finding things that make you happy shouldn’t be hard.”

“Well maybe he shouldn’t have killed himself if he wanted me to consider his opinion.” You snapped at Nero. 

Nero didn’t speak so you continued. 

“I’m trying, so hard, I left Charming, I’m eons away from where I was when I first got here. You have no idea, I was a wreck, I’m functioning now.” You started naming off all the things you’ve worked through. “And you know, you have no room to come here, to my home and tell me Jax wouldn’t want me living this way. You have no idea what it’s like to meet someone who broke your heart. I blame him because it’s easier that way, but I still fucking look for him in everything, I look for him in myself.” Your finger slammed into your chest as you pointed to yourself. “Despite my desire and wish for things to be the way they were, I can’t even think about it without hating it. What I used to love, I hate now. Motorcycles. Charming. Care-free living. Do you know what it’s like to look in the mirror and not even recognize yourself?” The tears were flowing from your face as you screamed. It wasn’t really meant for Nero but he was on the receiving end of it all. 

Your head buzzed from the yelling that abruptly stopped as you just stared at Nero. Your voice was a whisper now. “Some days I wish I went a different way, a life where I never met him, never loved him, never lost him, or maybe even had an opportunity to change it, right, but I know if I got the chance I’d do it all the same. I know I’d never been able to stop him, no matter what I did.” 

Nero stood up and reached out to you and much to your surprise, you let him. The embrace was something in those few seconds that he was making his way over to you that you looked forward to, one that you felt was going to provide just a bit of comfort, but when he wrapped his arms around you the feeling fell short. Because it wasn’t him. The one thing that would help you was impossible to obtain. 

“I’m okay.” The coldness washed over you, the feeling of just letting so much off your chest and sobbing so much just to be left numb was like a veil falling over you. 

“I’m okay, um, we should get dinner later tonight. I promise I won’t yell.” 

Nero let out a laugh. “It’s good to get out, figured you weren’t talking about it much when you stopped answering my calls.” 

“Pick me up later?” You asked and he agreed, moving to the backdoor. 

“You sure you’re good?” His hand was on the knob as he stood back on the step before shutting the door. 

“Yea, I promise, I’m good.” A smile forced its way on your face. 

Nero nodded and left which led you to bring yourself to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Staring in the mirror at your red, swollen eyes. 

“I’ll make it through the winter if it kills me.” The words were said at such a whisper as you stared at yourself, convincing yourself to push through the pain. Your mind wondering why despite all your hurried effort time passing went so slow.

You barely recognized yourself as you stared in the mirror. It was one thing to feel it, so disconnected from who you thought you were, but right now you felt like you could see it. It made you wonder if you really took the time to look at yourself over the last 5 months, and despite every hardworking effort, not only could you not see yourself, but you couldn’t see Jax anymore either. 

So you let your eyes go dark and imagined the one thing that maybe would bring you closer to him. 

[heronpoxed]

What do you think about then bringing Wendy back into the picture?? I always hated that..I loathe it even more after finding out Sutter only brought her back because the actress that played her was struggling for work. Thoughts???

I always knew that Wendy was gonna show up again at some point. Not bringing Wendy back wouldn't have made any sense whether or not Drea had any work-related issues.

Don't get me wrong, it's just that with shows like SOA there's a certain formula that screenwriters need to follow in terms of drama and suspense. Bringing Wendy back represented just that. However, I hated the WAY her "homecoming" was handled. Wendy had potential for one of the best character developlents on this show and even though she really stepped up as a mom and became a decent person, Sutter flushed all that development down the drain by making her fall for Jax again in s7. When I saw them kiss in 7x12 I almost threw up. After what Jax did to her in s5 no woman with dignity and in her right mind would even look at him but Sutter on the other hand, made her sprint back to him as if nothing had happened and it made me wanna throw a fit! Wendy somehow managed to become the most stable person in that family and had potential to come out on top when it came to the best characters on the show and Sutter ruined by his misogyny. Cuz he only sees women like Gemma lmao.

Wendy and Tara's relationship/alliance would've been sooooo good to explore. Rn i'm just mourning all the wasted potential of that show and ugh there's so much of it.

[fandominstability]

I love Gemma so much but I can almost never predict this bitch’s next move

What the fuck do you mean you’re now encouraging Wendy to fight for Jax?

What the fuck are you kissing her for?

What the fuck just happened?

[winnie-the-monster]

[throne-for-queens]

The only good thing that came out of this show is that I got to see that Wendy became an amazing mother. That is all I'm taking away from this, anything else that happened in this show did not happen. I'm going to stay in delu delu land.

[mostfandomimagines]

Imagine: Being Wendy’s younger sister and finding out that you’ve been seeing Nero, so she decides to warn that she will kill Nero if he hurts you

[chrisgoesrock]

Shortcuts with The Paybacks & Wendy Case

[fathersonholygore]

Mayans M.C. 5x09: "I Must Go in Now for the Fog is Rising"

Mayans M.C. 5×09: “I Must Go in Now for the Fog is Rising” Directed by Elgin James Written by Jenny Lynn * For a recap & review of 5×08, click here. * For a recap & review of the series finale, click here. EZ’s woken up by Guero and Bottles after their return from the blaze at the Broken Saints compound. Quite the way to get up in the morning. At the Reyes house, Felipe and Angel are up to more…

[askthekoopsandjr]

So, group, is Lord Bowser dating someone?

[linterteatime]

The LA gang that beat up markiplier

[spite-of-the-grifter]

Every time I see people reduce Franziska von Karma to "haha bitchy immature lady with a whip" I get viscerally angry.

[mamawasatesttube]

the thing abt early timkon (yj-era) is that they never disliked each other. they liked each other so much! it's "i like this guy i think he's overall competent and a good asset to my team and he's nice to be around most of the time. BUT ALSO sometimes he opens his mouth and i just wanna stuff my boot in it", which to me is overall a MUCH funnier dynamic than just rivals or whatever.

like. they're 15 and all they know how to do is bicker like an old married couple. kon tries to do something nice for tim and tim's pissed because he thinks kon is calling him incompetent. tim opens his mouth and kon's like oh my god shut up im gonna put you through a WALL. a third party insults either of them and theyre both like what the FUCK did you say about my bestie i'm gonna kick your ass!!!!!!

it's their "get out of my school" era. the "picking on you to get your attention" era. the "stealing your food just to piss you off teehee >:3c whatre you gonna do about it?" era. and yet they'll also doze off on each other's shoulders on the sofa. they contain multitudes. (every multitude is a stupid teenager, screaming endlessly into the void.)

[heronpoxed]

I wasn’t around for soa in 2014 but i’m pretty sure the only reason kurt sutter decided to make jax and wendy have sex in 7x12 was to give fans a final shot of charlie’s overwhelmingly and concerningly worshipped ass 🤡 I can’t digest any other explanation because it added absolutely nothing to the story whatsoever… you know, besides flushing wendy’s dignity and character development down the shitter, that is.