#Bluejay-in-write

[skullinacowboyhat]

Illustrated portrait commission for @bluejay-in-write of their OC, Astraea. Absolute delight working with you!

[privateerstudies]

QuickieKopi and judaism and hoodie Stealing 👀👀👀

- @bluejay-in-write 💙

QuickieKopi:

He's not used to feeling wrong-footed at practice, nor is he used to the colors of it all: the jerseys, the rink, the banners. Everything is just kind of off, like it's meant to be different and has yet to conform.

He's never forgotten what a New England fall feels like, but it's been fifteen years since he's felt one settle around him, crawl into his bones.

It's almost a new feeling.

Judaism and hoodie stealing:

The line is silent. Then, there's rustling, and banging, and more noise than Adam generally wants to hear from Quinn's house when he's not there to ensure a lack of broken bones, and then-

"Got em," whispers Quinn, as if whispering negates knocking half of the shit on top of his fridge off of it in order to get to the stupid fucking candles he doesn't need for another- Adam checks the day of the week - three days. It's still Tuesday night there.

I hope u like these!!!

[arrthurpendragon]

@bluejay-in-write is pretty awesome. I’m currently obsessed with their Star Wars clone OC Sol

@bluejay-in-write

[asirensrage]

54, 69, 70, 71 for the writing asks 😊

- @bluejay-in-write

Hey! Thanks for asking!

54. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

Reading a lot, lol. I mean, the more you read the more you can see things that other writers do that you think is great. I read some people's descriptions and it always makes me want to improve mine. Also: write. Just keep going. You don't have to share it with everyone, somethings can be just for you, but keep writing. You can't improve if you don't practice.

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

Hmm...that's a good question. I try to think of what's causing the reaction they're having and try to relate that emotion to how I've felt when I've experienced it or how I've seen others react as they've felt it. You want people to relate, right? So you have to make it real. That usually means using real experiences to colour it. Um...not really? I mean, I've thought about how cute something I wrote is or how angst ridden it is, but my goal is usually getting others to react, not myself. It doesn't come across the same to me writing it compared to reading it.

70. are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

Yes. I'm always surprised when people like my writing lol. I always think I can do better. That comes from the idea of the fact that our own writing is familiar to us. It doesn't seem like that big of a deal or that great because it's our and we've seen/heard it a million times. Others haven't. With editing it depends...mainly if I have a beta reader lol. And how patient I am. I try to edit when something is done (the fic, the chapter etc) but I tend to miss stuff. Thankfully having a beta is a godsend. When I don't though, I read my writing out loud. I catch more things that way.

71. how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?

Terribly. I would prefer to write instead of work, tbh. It depends on how inspired I am. I like to procrastinate on work by writing, but I'll also get my work done. If I'm not inspired, I'll end up shifting to reading mode and then I don't write for like days. If I am inspired, I can write constantly. I don't really get overwhelmed because I have so much to tell. I just get distracted and have to be forced back on track lol. (I can admit my faults lol)

ask game for fic writers

[kindlingkeen]

in the two dads au it would be super interesting to explore how both bruce and willis are shaped by their circumstances and how that influences how they parent jason. (add in the fact that willis is a criminal (+why he's a criminal) vs bruce who is a billionaire and batman, who takes it into his own hands to apprehend criminals)

and how jason is split between what willis taught him when he was young and his own experiences taking care of catherine and living on the street. vs how now he has money and safety and the ability to not only get an education but literally the best education money can buy, and how he desperately wants to just be able to relax and trust. and how that might make him begin to resent willis—for being a criminal, for not being able to provide, for teaching him to be distrustful as he allows himself to be kept safe by bruce

and as he grows up—even if he doesn't die in this au—how he learns to balance what willis and catherine and the alley taught him vs what bruce and money and the manor has taught him

(two dads AU: original ask, follow up, fu #2)

I’m 👀 at this so hard. What really struck me is this idea between unacceptable criminality and acceptable criminality.

Like, Willis is an unacceptable criminal, he hurts others for personal gain (except does he? Or is he just trying to survive and provide for his family in the only way he can?). But Bruce is also a criminal (vigilantism is not legal and he beats people up on the regular), but theoretically he’s not doing it for personal gain, he’s doing it to help others, so it’s acceptable.

As Jason grows up, does his resentment for Willis grow, or does he come to a place where he realizes that both his dads were doing the best they could in the circumstances they were given, to vastly different results?

[aeon-harshal]

500 words today!

If my progress continues like this then I might be able to finish the first act in a month or so.

A bit about the book Winged Bluejay not exactly spoilery, but you can read it if you wish or keep the surprise

Most of the time when reading/writing nobody thinks about the call of nature.

Random I know, but I cannot ignore this fact when the protagonist is taking care of the severely injured love interest... And now when I get to editing theses adorable scenes of her tending him, I'm going to have to bring this up or else my head is going to explode.

Normally we just don't have to think about this aspect of existence when dealing with fiction, but I am the person who will periodically go "But how do they go to the bathroom? When was the last time they relived themselves? Hellllllo?"

If someone is injured/bed ridden they're gonna need help with this stuff and getting cleaned up... I never thought I was going to have these to be well beyond the usual "oh nakey 😳" so quickly... But this is a practical thing I refuse to ignore.... And I promise to only touch on it for a hopefully brief paragraph before swiftly moving on.

[axolozzy]

had an insane dream about TUMBLR so i thought it was my obligation to share (warning for murder and horror movie like stuff i guess)

so there was this old tumblr creepy pasta that was really popular back in the day and it took place on a blog called “cortney’s blog” spelled exactly like that. it was weird because it was the only blog that had a space and apostrophe in the name.

the main antagonist was this tiny really ugly wrinkly pink creature that looked like a 3D puppet of that one shrimp character from smiling friends, and it’s name was The Numbler. iirc Cortney was i think the stereotypical popular high school girl but in secret she was the only one who could see and talk to The Numbler (or the only one The Numbler allowed to see and talk to it) and basically carried out murders for it. she had pale skin and long brown hair and wore a heavy metal band t shirt

(also like halfway through the dream, i realized it was a dream and thought i’d wanna write it down and post about it when i wake up LOL so the way i thought to remember The Numbler’s name was thinking about the word “mumble,” “number” and “the riddler” all combined into The Numbler. and it worked)

also it’s weird because the dream kinda kept going back and fourth from present days and flashbacks, so it’s kinda hard to get the timeline right. so i don’t know exactly how The Numbler started or came to be, because i didn’t see that far back yet before i woke up. i also don’t know how the dream ended either

anyway from what i can remember, the stuff put on cortney’s blog years and years ago was in the form of really well drawn webcomics that told the story of each murder Cortney committed, most of them involving her luring people away from their friends and murdering them. but people didn’t exactly know or think it was real because they were just comics. somehow, people caught on that the stuff the blog was posting was actually based on real murders taking place at the same time, but nobody could find the bodies or the person running the blog, so it was kinda just left as a creepypasta and forgotten about as time went on and it stopped posting.

and when i say forgotten about, like really forgotten about. nobody really knew it had existed unless you were on tumblr like a decade ago and saw the whole thing go down yourself, otherwise the posts became kinda lost to time and were never talked about.

years later, i was at my grandma’s house just kinda hanging out lol and i went upstairs to this really weird room we were never really allowed in. the room was dark and looked like a concrete basement and there were all sorts of writings on the walls that looked written out of dried blood or black paint. there was a giant rectangle slab in the middle that was basically a bed i think but it looked more like a tomb or coffin. apparently this was where cortney committed her last murder (which. apparently was my grandpa LOL???) and after that, her spirit became trapped in that room for years until the door was finally opened by ME. oops

now cortney’s spirit is loose and i’m freaking out and trying to find out soo much lore about her blog to find a way to stop this. i looked through all the cortney’s blog tumblr posts and read all the comics. it was a weird moment because suddenly, everyone on tumblr was coming across those posts again and reblogging them saying they were part of the tumblr greats and stuff. as i was binging the comics, i also reblogged them to show my mutuals because they were genuinely interesting and a good story and thought they’d like it. apparently there had also been a horror movie adaptation of cortney’s blog back in the day so i watched that movie to find out more.

the movie didn’t reveal much except i think it’s how i figured out where The Numbler was left. anyway during all of this, cortney’s blog had started posting AGAIN and people were really excited because they thought it returned for some kind of arg creepypasta and they didn’t think it was actually Real.

my time was limited to find The Numbler and destroy it before Cortney came back and killed me, so i began my search. here’s the part where it gets confusing and i feel ends very abruptly. i went outside by the woods that don’t exist irl and found three wooden crates that looked like they had been there a really long time. they were all weathered down and had plants growing around them and stuff.

anyway me and my friend (dunno who it was they kinda showed up outta nowhere) opened the crates and found some stuff. the first one had a red piece of yarn in it and and ohhh shit i think i forgot something else important. so! sometimes i get these weird lucid deja vu dreams where during the dream, i realize im dreaming and that i’ve actually had the same exact dream before! but that’s a lie, i’ve literally never had those dreams before but my brain made me think i did? so i knew some extra information that was just given to me at the start i think. that information was that The Numbler had more friends. there was a red piece of yarn that could take shape of a little stick man person and stuff. then there was a rag that was also a little guy idk. they were just little fucked up creatures that were part of the cortney’s blog lore and were The Numbler’s companions.

after The Numbler was abandoned all those years ago when Cortney’s spirit was trapped in my grandpa’s room, it and its friends were basically trapped in those crates and abandoned for years. my friend and i had now just opened them and saw the remains of those guys, now just the lifeless objects they were based on. the red yarn was just a piece of yarn and the wash cloth was just that. but The Numbler was nowhere to be seen. fuck

we ran back into the house after seeing a creepy fucking shadow man staring at us from across the lawn. it was creepy as hell and was now IN THE HOUSE CHASING US. this house was not my grandma’s anymore either it was just a random house i’ve never been in before, i think it was suppose to be my mystery friend’s house actually.

anyway i just stayed in the kitchen and my friend and their family were being chased by the shdadow man and allll of The Numbler’s friends. yep. they were back to life now, must’ve been playing a trick on us in those crates, and now they were like running in a circle around my friends doing some sort of weird ritual thing. all of a sudden they became humanoid and their personalities also reminded me of the starkid lords in black, both the weird monster forms and the human forms.

anyway i was hiding under a really small table and could see into the room were they were terrorizing my friends. i made eye contact with one of the creatures. shit

i was found, they all surrounded me, then i woke up. i have no idea what happened to The Numbler or Cortney but their friends were doing some sort of ritual on us and they probably completed it. Cortney probably continued her reign of terror and fed our bodies to The Numbler who knows. it was a crazyyy dream i hope u all found it entertaining :) now who wants to make The Numbler the new tumblr sexyman

[top-wing]

shorty

[bluebluejay]

at first sight

[bijoumikhawal]

Sir Jay

I found you this morning beneath my work window

On your back, white shirt showing

During the first hour, full of traffic

My eyes turned to the frailty of your breast often

The crater in your down

My religion confers uncleanness to the dead

Yet more- it is contagious

But I am here to take care of you

So I will make peace with it

Once quiet, I move you away from the roadside

Laying you where the tall pondside grass begins

Away from the landscaper's scorn

Worms and beetles will rise from the firmament to greet you

You will become firmament

Blue transmutes to brown

Cars continue to roll on

[quietbluejay]

Angel Exterminatus 1

It's Bluejay's Wacky Warhammer Fun Time! Now With An Actual Warhammer only 29,999 to go...

this isn't...actually a bad opening

it's a flashback of kid!Perturabo climbing a cliff with amnesia also there's something deeply ominous in the sky staring at him that no one else can see

oh this is much better written, huh, McNeill upped his game

this prose is not torturous

so we get counts five pages about an alien parasitic wasp and how it being beautiful is a metaphor blah blah then

ding! first war crime! that was fast.

so far the iron warriors are impressing me with neither their morality nor their actual skills

Barban Falk: i'd sell you to anyone for one corn chip

ooof Perturabo beats his own subordinate nearly to death for bringing bad news why is this guy popular again note from future Bluejay: lol

war is hell

huh, i like the Imperial Fist dude, have a bad feeling he's going to die, though

I also like this Kroeger dude.

Perturabo gets a superhero entrance

OH HE EVEN DID A SUPERHERO LANDING

we get to meet adult Perturabo and he's basically ye olde villain bad boss

okay so hm why is this simping bothering me less than it did in A Thousand Sons well there's much less purple prose also we STARTED the book with his first mention as an adult being a pretty crappy dude so it's actually decent storytelling it's like "yeah he's horrible, now let me show you WHY people follow him" oh right also the prose is not horny for Perturabo the way it was for Magnus, it's not spending like every moment going on about how great and also hot he is I have not encountered a single mention of muscles it is glorious.

RIP Kroeger Kroeger: AAAA HES GONNA KILL ME Perturabo:

And in that moment, Kroeger wondered if his whole life was a lie and he was actually some other dude.

And I am feeling the Darth Vader in this Chili's tonight

Kroeger: man I'm glad I'm not in charge of anything Perturabo: congrats you are now one of the three main captains

(this is after literally ripping the armour off of Kroeger's (former) commanding officer)

i do kind of wanna see more from Kroeger

or the fist dudes

Conclusion on finishing the sample:

McNeill DID up his game like there's the occasional rough spot but overall it's actually good and manages to not go over the line into "augh stygian orbs of despair!"

Every time I think "maybe you're being too hard on McNeill" I remember that that was an actual phrase. Oh wait I was wrong "the stygian depths of infinite chaos [in Magnus' eye]" was one and "the depths of despair [Ahriman] saw in that haunted glowing orb [also Magnus' eye]" was a different one.

Short post but I wanted to get the sample stuff all together because again 3 separate commentaries.

Will Bluejay ever actually start consistently capitalizing and using punctuation? Find out next time!

[himbos-hotline]

15 on the FWB list is Cole & Jay

I'll tell you my sins and [you can sharpen your knife]

Word count: 4247 words Ship: Jay Orton/Adam Cole, "Hangman" Adam Page/Adam Cole, Adam Cole/Kenny Omega/"Hangman" Adam Page/Wheeler Yuta/Jay Orton [right at the end] Characters: Adam Cole, Jay Orton, Mentioned: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam Page, Triggers: I don't think there is any, canon typical violence Authors note: I saw the tumblr post where Adam Cole stabs people in the back before he betrays them and thought "what if he did this to Jay?" and then I wrote 4000 words about it but this is actually them getting together. Also titled as: COLE IS A BRAT PRINCESS WHO NEEDS TO FOR HER CRIMES AGAINST MY SANITY. I am back baby!! The polycule is just a mention at the end, this is some good ol' love confessions with angst and feelings Read on AO3

Adam still smells like the table when he stumbles through the curtain. It seems to mix into his pours, the smokiness drawing an outline around the blood that drizzles and runs slowly down his chin, twisting across the racing pulse points in his neck as it mixes with sweat. He can still taste Cole's blood on the corners of his tongue when he swallows, pushing the title further up his shoulder as he stumbles through backstage. There's a throbbing pain in his palm, small cuts from the barbed wire crown he settled on Cole's head; a fake crown for a false God.

The medical room is starkly warm and distractingly different to the sweat chilling against Adam's skin as he sits with his back against the wall, legs hanging in free-fall off the medical bench as Delilah stitches up his chin. There's the familiar tug of stitches being dragged through his chin and the unfamiliar tapping that seems to drive a spike through Adam's temple. There's the awkward scurry of unsteady footsteps and he blinks his eyes open, feeling them adjust to the light. He watches Jay lead Cole in; his arm wrapped around his middle and hands lingering almost purposely against his shoulders. Jay brushes a thumb across the seam of Cole's lips and smiles when his eyes open. "Ya in the medical room now, you're safe…"

Cole follows Jay with his eyes; blue and foggy like the water in an abandoned well as she leans against the wall between the two of them. "It's okay, they're gonna fix ya up and then I'll take you back to the hotel."

"Ya will?" Adam blinks between his boyfriends, head tilted coyly to the side as he keeps the two of them. He spots the warmth on Jay's face, bringing a soft pink blush across his ears and scarred cheeks and notices the softness that floats the murky pools of pain everytime he thinks Jay is not looking in his direction. Adam spots the tension in the room, the thickness of the air and nods slowly when Jay raises an eyebrow. "I just…meant that I did this…it's kinda my mess I've gotta clean up…" Adam watches the wince that coats Cole's face and looks down at the floor, sighing softly.

"Yeah, You're pretty banged up anyway, ya aint gonna be much good to Cole if you'er both laying fucked up in bed." Jay says with a shrug, softly running her fingers through Adam's hair. "Plus Kenny is gonna wanna look after you, y'know how he gets when you're hurt cowboy." Jay follows the blush across Adam's cheeks with his thumbs, smiling when he tilts his head forwards, chin jutted forwards so the doctor can smooth a bandaid across the fresh stitches. "Sorry, is he done?"

Delilah nods politely, painted lips pressed together in a sweet smile as Adam thanks her, fingertips smoothing slowly across the outline of the bandaid, feeling the rough texture against the soft pad of his thumb. He nods softly when Delilah pushes a pamphlet into his hand about the wound care and despite his history with stitches, Adam takes it away. "I'll text you when I'm back at the hotel." Adam tells the two people sitting on the bench opposite the room as he dresses, tugging his vest on over his sore shoulders.

"Yeah." Jay replies, shoulders bunched up around his ears, face a mix of stunned surprise and a familiar glimmer of understanding, Adam follows Jay's arm with a questioning glint in his eyes, it disappears when he spots Cole slumped against Jay's side, hand resting against theirs. "I'll uh, text the group chat when we get back to the hotel." Adam nods, listens to the soft way that Jay's voice smoothes out at the end as their hand twists, resting palm-to-palm with Coles. "I love you."

"I love ya guys too." Adam says, loud enough that the two of them can hear over the fuss of the medical room and the click of the door closing behind their boyfriend. Jay's eyes linger against the red wooden door for a few seconds, flicking almost like he's tracing Adam's outline, Cole moves pushing his forehead against Jay's lowering shoulders, twisting his face away from the penlight Delilah shimmers into his blue eyes.

There's tests and checks, ones that Jay remembers in medical school and they follow along silently with what he remembers, listens closely to Delilah as she calls over Doctor Sampson and the tests start again. Cole grumbles through the answers, swats his hand annoyingly at the pen touch and Jay presses his hand firmly into the spot between his shoulders, small round nails itching at the blood-stained skin. She watches as Delilah presses butterfly stitches to the back of Cole's head, follows a drop of blood as it maps its way around his chest and quickly without thinking Jay wipes it away, rubbing it so hard into the dark fabric of their jeans, that the two of them can almost pretend that it didn't happen.

The match didn't happen. Cole is sitting, being poked and prodded in a random room in a random state. Jay never left his side those years ago. She is seventeen again; in the back of a dingy restaurant, chuckling as her and Cole down bottles of wine and share cigarettes, giggling when his lips get stained with the end of Jay's lipstick. The two of them are curled up together in a bed in a hotel room WWE paid for, Jay rubbing Adam's cum off his chest with a wet rag, tucking him securely back into his ring gear and covering hickeys with foundation and bruise cream, smiling at each other in the reflection of a bathroom mirror.

No time has passed as the two of them sit together; Jay holding Cole up as he desperately searches for warmth in the curve of his neck. He smells like mint and rose water, his hair smells of tea tree oil and when he looks up at them with the round blue eyes, shimmering like the Devil's water, Jay remembers all the times together; gazing into each others eyes and drinking the waters of sinful lust like the two of them we're drowning, gasping in air And then she smiles, watches how Cole blinks slowly at them, pupils small and darting around the room when something rumbles outside, a bit too close to thunder.

"Its okay, there's no rain here, not yet." Jay promises, legs swinging slightly as he talks, watching from the corner of his eyes as Doctor Sampson prepares antiseptic wipes and yet another needle to sterilize the wounds. The room smells like antiseptic and trying his best, wraps his fingers between the gaps in Cole's hand, watches how he squeezes back and nods. "See-" He scrolls through his phone, flicks through the weather app and smiles. "It's just gonna be cold tonight, no rain."

"Okay.." Cole whispers, voice trailing into a whine as the needle pierces through his skin and the muscles around his arm tighten. "Will you stay with me?"

"Yeah…It'll be just like before."

Cole nods and Jay looks back up at the doctor, looking through the pamphlet that he gets handed. "A guide to wound care" and Jay barely helps the small chuckle that bubbles up their throat and out her mouth. "Thanks." Jay whispers, tucking the paper notes into his back pocket and slowly prizes Cole off their side. He whines ungratefully and Jay smiles a little softer. "C'mon let's go back to the hotel, we can get something to eat."

Cole's ears perk up a little at the idea of food and unsteadily he takes Jay's arm, letting the smaller male wrap it around his middle and with a small wave, the two of them exit the medical room.

It's not until the two of them stop at a red light, a few miles away from the hotel does Cole start acting weird; the pain is his head making his mind fuzzy, his mouth tastes weird and unnaturally sweet. There's a stinging in the back of his throat and a ring of pain dancing around his skull. His forehead knocks against the window, his breath fogging up the cold windows as he leans against them, staring at the back of Jay's head as they drive. "S'your turn to pay." He grumbles, staring at her from the rear view mirror and for a few seconds Jay's eyebrows crease.

They always used to share costs; Cole would pay one night, dramatically rolling his eyes as he tugs his credit card out from his back pocket and Jay would return the favor, stopping to pick up ice cream on the way home. The two of them would sit, faces illuminated by a flickering streetlight as they shared open mouthed kisses, sharing the different flavors of ice cream that stayed melted against their lips. They shared everything: food, clothes, spit and love. A long time ago their hearts would sing the same tune; Jay's a soft harmony to Cole's racing palpitations until the call of gold and fame stole Cole away like a siren and Jay could do nothing apart from watch as he wandered deeper into the seas of championships, learning how to push hate into the hole that Cole left behind.

The silence is deafening as the light above them turns green and Jay grips at the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead of them. "Yeah whatever Cole '' The words have a playful edge and Cole's nose wrinkles up, shaking his head slowly against the window.

"I don't like that I have to share you." The words seem to slip out of Cole's mouth like an avalanche; quick and unpreparable. He spits them onto the mat of the rental car but they ring in Jay's ears, louder than any scream she's ever heard. She doesn't say anything- just stares at Cole in the reflection of the mirror and tries to keep a placid look on her face. Jay never minded the small amount of possession that came with allowing Adam Cole to wander around her heart, his handprints stung like antiseptic in a deep wound and Jay pretends that she isn't fascinated by what he means. She knows he loves Kenny and Adam, as much as they do but the words come out so quickly and so lisped. Jay almost thinks that he's jealous that they're two friends lost in a pile of romance.

The car behind them toots their horn, stuttering the heavy tension in the car; leaving it laying on the floor sharp and bright, highlighting Cole's words. He throws up when Jay opens the car door, tears wetting his face as he heaves, face red in embarrassment and Jay simply takes his hair and tucks stands around one another, a tight fake hair tie to keep the vomit out of Cole's hair. He runs his fingers across Cole's scalp and presses a kiss to the back of his head, wiping his mouth when Cole raises his head and stares up at a blinking light just outside the back entrance of the hotel.

"Just like before." He says, voice croaky and rough through the heavy intakes of breath and Jay chuckles dryly, using his sleeve to wipe across Cole's bottom lip. He shifts Cole around the pile of vomit, leaving him leaning against the wall for support as Jay unloads the car, tossing backpacks and duffle bags across his smaller frame and taking Cole's hand back into his and leads him slowly to check in. He spots other wrestlers around the hotel lobby; some sitting in groups at the bar, others sitting curled up in chairs as they wait for friends, Jay nods politely, feet carefully placed as the two of them walk.

The lady at the counter gives Cole a glare and Jay watches his eyebrows raise, bottom lip sticking out like he's swallowed something sour and she nudges him with her ankle. "We should have a room…under Adam Cole." Jay watches the lady type, sharp nails tapping against the keyboard in a way that makes Cole groan, eyes barely open under the bright lights of the room. "Yeah I know sweetie. We'll get ya into bed soon so you can rest."

"I'm sorry, I don't see a room under that name. Are you sure this is the right hotel?" The receptionist looks between the two of them, watches as Jay sends a look towards Cole who simply shrugs, staring off into space and Jay isn't really mad with him. Not really, he went through a hell of a match and now pain and medication and anesthetic work slowly through his bloodstream, making him feel fuzzy and his lips loose and his mind jump from place to place. "I can book you two a room together, we should have one couples suite left."

"Not a couple…" Cole grumbles, leaning more of his weight against the mahogany counter and Jay nods, pretending like he doesn't enjoy the feeling that comes from the two of them being considered a couple. "Were a long time ago…" Cole completes and the receptionist makes a sound, distracted and half focused as she slides two key cards over, nails tapping against them.

"You two enjoy your stay." The receptionist says, voice slightly distraunt. Jay spots her wiping down the counter as the two of them wait for the elevator and it takes everything in his system, not to walk back over there to complain. She more than likely thinks Cole's some kind of drunk, words slurred and eyes unfocused as he sways unsteadily on his feet, shoulder knocking into the side of Jay's temple. Jay wishes people understood their jobs a lot better. Jay wishes she understood Cole a lot better. Something about him had changed after the NXT title, after the return to the Elite. Something that Jay doesn't hate but doesn't like either; a weird cockiness, a desire that borders on addiction. He can't remember the last time Cole got stitches, the last time she remembered him this out of it.

Normally, Cole was always the stable one. The stronger one of the two, the one that Jay leaned against in medical rooms, holding their hand as a doctor pulls out thumbtacks from his back, stitches up wounds from barbed wire. Jay barely remembers where she got half her scars from but Cole does because in the elevator, he prods at the one on her neck with his hand and huffs. "barbed wire."

"Mhmm, ya yelled at me the entire car ride home after that dya remember?" Jay says, looking at their reflection in the mirrored walls. "You kissed it better….we kissed and then got screamed at by Hunter." Jay chuckles a little at the memory, watches as a blush dusts itself over Cole's cheeks high enough that the tips of his ears start to shimmer a soft pink and he nods, screwing his eyes shut.

"Yelled because you were mine." Cole whispers, listening to the toll of the elevator bell. "I was meant to protect you..but I let you go.." He's toying with his bottom lip, running his hands together. Anything to dispel the shaky edge to his words as he forces his eyes open, staring up at the floor counter. Cole feels a little like he;'s talking to his death, each floor is another sentence which is another step towards the end of his rekindled friendship with Jay. He doesn't know why he's spilling these emotions, letting them overflow out his mouth like melting snow, they taste funny in his mouth like stale energy drinks or the fresh coppery taste of blood. Jay's staring at him just as confused. Cole can feel their eyes, softly pinched at the corners in confusion as he speaks.

He tries to breathe, easy and slow but the words keep coming. "I'm starting to feel jealous when I see you with other people." he admits, words quiet enough that they're hidden by the screaming of the elevator doors and the sound of a suitcase being wheeled down the thick carpet. Part of him is okay with that; the words float away in the still air, yet another confession Cole whispers to the stars.

Jay looks over his shoulder, short red curls highlighting their mult-coloured eyes and Cole swallows, drinking in the warm soft land of green and the warm endless pool of blue. His first step out of the elevator is uncoordinated and sends his tired limbs tumbling into the carpet. He winces, swears under his breath and under the fog of dizziness, gazes up as Jay takes his hand and slowly pulls him back to his feet. "Be careful Cole, I'll clean them when we get to our hotel room."

"Ours?" Cole parrots, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. Theirs. The two of them are sharing a room, sharing a bed..the two of them are together. People think they're together. He smiles, ignores the stinging in his knees and lets Jay lead him down the hall towards their hotel room, heart almost giddy against his ribs as the door pops open and the light flicks on, stinging the back of Coles eye's but for the first time in a while, the pain doesn't matter.

The only thing that matters is Jay being next to him again. The bags are dropped unceremoniously onto the floor beside the bed and Jay kicks his boots off, tucking them neatly beside the front door of their hotel room; its roomy and Cole perches dizzily on the edge of the bed, feeling the swings wrap around his sore thighs and he smiles, watching Jay check the bathroom mirror. "Its okay, the bath isn't very big…but ya should be able to fit…do you need help?" Cole touches his own shoulder with his burned palm and winces.

"Y-you tied my hair back…Thank you.." He whispers when he catches his reflection in the bathroom mirror; strands of brown hair fanning out around his pale face. Cole thinks he looks tired, he knows Jay looks stunning as she comes up behind him, hands slow as she takes his shirt off and steers his face away from his reflection. The sound he makes is questioning, head tilting slightly as Jay smiles.

"You never used to like your reflection before you showered, only ever in your phone screen." Jay whispers and something deep inside Cole's heart feels like it's come undone; he remembers old hotel mirrors stained with soap scum so Cole didn't have to stare at the face of a man, he still has some of the filters on his phone, hidden away with his emails, pictures locked in secret folders; ones where a machine places makeup across his lips and widens his eyes so Cole feels seen in the feminine curl of the robotic hair. Jay's hands are cold against his hips and it startles him away from the thoughts and the guilt that now lays heavy at the bottom of his stomach.

"We've done this a few times hm?" He tries to joke as Jay untangles his belt and slides his zipper down, eyes focused on the running water that fills the tub. He wishes she would look at him as she sits him down on the edge of the tub, sliding his jeans off to toss them with his shirt on the floor. He almost desires Jay to look at him as he slides off his own boxers and sinks into the warm water.

Swallowing Jay washes the blood off his palms, runs his fingers slowly across the bend of Cole's knees and soon pain disappears, leaving only tiredness and safety in Cole's trembling frame. The water turns a soft pink and Jay reaches over Cole to pull the plug out. The water leaves him exposed and Jay politely turns his back, listening to Cole's unsteady footsteps as he steps out the bath. They watch him brush his teeth, toothpaste bubbles running over his chin and she smiles, rubbing them away. "Let's get you to bed, you look tired."

In the bedroom, Jay pulls an oversized shirt over Cole's head, runs a brush slowly through his hair, following the twists of his drying hair with his fingers. She replaces the bandaid on Cole's forehead and maybe it's the smell of his skin, freshly-washed and still warm or maybe it's the fact that Cole edges closer, Jay presses a kiss against the fabric, smiles when Cole's eyelashes flutter against his chin and he's slow to pull away, twirling a strand of hair around their finger. "you look wonderful…" Cole whispers, voice thickening with sleep as he watches Jay slide boxers up his thin legs, carefully rubbing an unnaturally warm palm against a bruise, almost like she's trying to fix him, to comfort him. The pillows wrap around Cole's painful head and the heavy blankets lull his body closer to tiredness before the light bulbs above him are fully darkened.

"Hey Jaybird?" Cole whispers, following the outline of Jay's small in the darkness. He stares into the flames of the lighter and when Jay opens a window and blows smoke into the cold air outside, Cole can barely keep his eyes open.

"Yeah Cole?"

"Adam's a real lucky fella." Cole yawns, stares Jay in the face as she's highlighted by the streets below, glowing in the warm blue light of midnight. "I love you." He admits. And it's the last thing Cole admits to the stars.

Jay watches Cole's chest even out, lips parted wide enough the cigarette goes tumbling from his painted lips into the world below them. Part of Jay's mind rejects Cole's confession, pushes it away like a child refusing to eat vegetables whereas the other cradles it carefully between its hands like it's a little bird crying out for its mother. Jay swallows, feels their stomach knot up. They've let him into her heart before, allowing Adam Cole to carve himself into their soul, until her blood whispers her name against his veins. The two of them had loved each other in the back seats of cars and empty toilet stalls. They had loved each other in wrestling matches and in wounds.

They had loved and lost and stole and fought and Cole had stabbed Jay in the back, hard enough that sometimes the feeling floats through his skin again; the feeling of Cole's fist bumping into his shoulder as his hips rolled desperately up towards her mouth and Jay had asked, hands resting safely on his thighs why. Jay never got a reply, just heavy set blinks and Cole mumbling breathy pleas and Jay complied, letting the knife sit in his back as he continued to fight, to age, to grow, to change. They had both changed, they had both lost and earned and changed. They had loved enough to be changed..

Jay rolls his shoulder as he closes the window, quiet enough not to wake Cole up. She can still feel the knife sitting against her shoulder blade, skin grown over the blade and holding it sharply in place, it barely hurts anymore as Jay wanders around the hotel room, folding up Cole's ring gear, sorting out the suitcases. The night wears on, the early morning sun brings a chill and Jay breathes in the cold air, tasting Cole's confession still on his lips. He gets off the couch, throws his phone face down onto the chair before slowly wandering towards the bed.

Cole's still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the confession or the heaviness of the words that he had said hours ago. Jay smiles, traces the outline of his jaw with her fingers and nods, she can love him again.

Maybe she never stopped. The blankets are soft against Jay's stubbled legs when he tucks himself neatly opposite Cole, staring at the dents of his spine and the twist of his hair around his shoulders. Slowly she trails a finger across his spine, feeling his vertebrae pop slowly into place as Cole hunts for warmth, tucking himself under her chin. She looks down at him, one arm pinned under Cole's chest, the other on his cheek.

"Yeah…" She whispers, lips barely brushing against Cole's temple as he worms closer towards his side. Jay follows the way Cole tucks his leg between theirs under the blankets. They fit together so well, the walls pushed down until it's just the two of them, laying together in each other's arms again. Jay leaves his hearing aids on the bedside table, rests his chin on the crown of Cole's head and whispers. "yeah…you are lucky…"

In his sleep, Cole smiles and slowly runs his hand across Jay's shoulder.

The pain disappears and for the first time in a while, Jay feels like he can sleep soundly. In the morning, Jay feels Cole's lips brush against his shoulder and feels the words mouthed against the bone poking against his lips.

"I'm sorry…It won't be like before."

Neither one of them talk about the confession, just let themselves love. Kenny and Adam never ask about it, the two of them just share a knowing smile and wrap their arms around the two of them, letting Wheeler tuck his head into the back of Adam's neck; five people tangled together, hearts singing one continuous melody of true unbreaking love.

taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

[jackalopewitch]

A Bluejay for Bragi

I’ve heard the bluejay sing,

Not squawk in abandon,

But truly, deep in his throat,

Let out a chittering song

That touches my heart into knowing

Yes, the gods exist.

9-15-2022

[fiction-vixen]

AHHHH NOT ME FREAKING OUT SEEING THAT YOU FOLLOWED ME AFTER REPLYING TO MY COMMENT AND JUST AHHHHHH YOU'RE SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER AND I'M JUST !!!!!!!!!!?????? *totally not having a complete freak out like this just made my whole WEEK and I'm trying and failing to be normal about it* 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯 ( @bluejay-in-write )

Omg!! I am just glad I was able to return the favour!! I truly meant what I said in my response ! Your comment really really made my week and my writer's heart happy!!! SO I had to hunt down the person responsible!! Seriously, thank you for being such a gem!! I am so so honoured that you enjoyed by writing!!! And can't wait to hopefully share more words soon!!! <3

[asirensrage]

📒 can I please get a one shot for leverage including Hardison and Parker (and Eliot if you ship those three not sure if you do or not) also congrats again on 1k! 😄

- @bluejay-in-write

Omg! Yes! I love Leverage and I love Parker and Hardison and Eliot! This could be a lot of fun! I'll add it to the list!

Thank you!!!!

ridea's 1k followers celebration

[aceof-diamonds]

One smooth movement with his knife down his palm and blood started to trickle out onto the floor. The hostage Ace had strapped down to the chair watching in shock, confusion. A pleased hum filled the brief silence between them before he began to walk over, blood leaving a trail behind him.

He paused in front of the chair, watching the man sat in it try to press further back into the wood.

"You're fucking crazy! What are you -"

"Sh." Ace put a finger to his own lips as he cut him off. "Just shut the fuck up for a second and relax." One hand brought the knife up to his cheek while the other gripped his hair, keeping his head in place. "We'll keep it nice and easy if you just cooperate, okay?" The hostage swallowed before nodding. "Okay. Good. Good boy." He grinned before pressing the knife into the skin and dragging it down with ease - eyes following the blood now trailing down his cheek, mixing with the tears from the sting.

He swapped the knife into his uninjured hand and pressed his own cut to the matching one on the others cheek, using his thumb to wipe away tears before stepping back.

And here comes the good part. The finale.

His wounded hand slowly curled into a fist at his side as his head tilted; lazy eyes locked on the man before him. He looked both scared and confused - understandably so, the man that wouldn't stop talking has finally stopped, left them both in an ominous silence while he stood there with a smirk that just seemed plastered to his face.

It didn't take long for the hostage to figure out his final plans for him - eyes widening as he started to struggle, writhing in an attempt to get out of the duck tape restraining him to the chair. It was almost like he was trapped underwater.

"Let me help you out," Ace walked over to the chair, once again flipping his butterfly knife open. "We can't have you breaking your wrists with how much you're struggling." He sliced through the binds on either side before stepping back to watch the man drop to the floor.

The hostage's hands immediately went for his own throat - it was like he was trying to claw through the skin or remove some sort of rope. Useless attempt but a show nonetheless.

Ace circled around to his front, crouching down before him. "Don't go for the throat, trying to get to your lungs is probably the best bet." He used the knife to tap at the other's chest. "That's the issue you're dealing with here. Sure, you can't breathe properly so you go for the throat," He drags the tip of the knife to just below his throat. "But it's your lungs. Right now, they're slowly filling with blood." He shrugs, nonchalant. "If you ever almost drowned as a kid in your swimming lessons, that's what's going on right now - just without the water."

There's a moment where the man on his knees tries to speak; foolish, he finds, as his eyes widen once again and all the words he wants to say - all of the swearing, insults, slurs, perhaps - fall out of his mouth as a puddle of blood on the floor. It makes him reel back as he chokes on the taste, on the feeling of more wanting to pour out. And Ace? He just watches. Arms draped over his knees as his eyes - now filled with what seems to be a sort of childlike giddiness - track each and every movement in front of him.

He watches as the man drowning in his own blood falls to his hands; the blood pouring from his mouth as he chokes and writhes splattering off the floor and onto Ace's converse as he slowly pushes himself up from his crouched position.

A sigh as he flicks the butterfly knife closed. "It really was lovely catching up with you today, mister," He takes the pause to push him onto his back with his shoe, the choking becoming louder and more violent as the blood stays stuck in his throat. "But I really must get going. I don't want to keep my lovely waiting any longer."