by benjaminwolf__

me

Under The Bridge - 103 "Blood Oath"

I think a lot about who I am to other people in the world–particular who I am to strangers as a mere concept in their lives.

Today this woman called our information desk and said, “my son’s band is playing tonight. I want to come see him, but he never answers his phone…..I want to be there. Have you heard anything about his band?”

And I felt so bad for this lady but I’m not in the music scene around here so I had to tell her no, sorry.

Five hours later, I’m hiking and run into a group of guys setting up for some outdoor performance, and as I watch them unload the drums it hits me.

“Hey,” I said, “are y’all in a band?”

They said yeah and smiled and I told them “one of your moms called today. She wants to watch you play, but she can’t get a hold of you. Call your mom.”

And they all pulled out their phones and started discussing whose mom it probably was as they presumably dialed their own.

And now, unless we meet again and recognize each other, that’s who I’ll be forever to those guys–some mysterious courier for mom-messages who came out of the woods and told them their mom called.

I didn’t even tell them why their mom called me. Who am I to their mom?? Nobody even asked. They just took my word for it and called their mothers.

Amazing.

I’M LAUGHING!!! THEY DIDN’T EVEN ASK WHO I AM.

That green check mark ✅ is finally here!

So many favorite moments and easter eggs in this chapter. Can't wait to read the comments.

Tell your friends! Spread the words!

Non cooking spray stick

Non spray stick cooking

Non cooking stick spray

Great job team hit the showers

Day 2! This one's prompt was Red and it sure came out striking! look at this fancy little gentleman :D

Editing to say: this piece is now available on Inprint if you want a physical copy of your own!

dreaming of you

This wins the internet for 2024!! 😂😂

Brilliant 😂😂

Day 1 of begging someone to write a Waitress AU

Love this!

Source

[ID: Two mugs clinking in to each other. The left mud is in the ace flag colors the right mug is in the aro flag colors. Between them there is liquid spiling out in the colors of the sunset aroace flag. End]

I have a terrible habit of leaving things unsaid for the sake of peace

“what cannot be said will be wept”

one month later

Ava wakes up to the smell of bacon.

It’s alluring, it makes her sit up in bed sniffing the air like some kind of cartoon character. She opens one eye first, thinking for a moment that she might just be dreaming - but the sun is shining through the window and it is, in fact, morning - but the smell of bacon just doesn't make any fucking sense.

Because she’s the only one in her apartment that cooks. If Chanel or JC try to cook, they’re more likely to destroy the stove or set off a smoke alarm or burn down the entire fucking complex.

So it’s very concerning as Ava ignores the tinge of discomfort in her back (another night working last night) and pulls herself out of bed.

She tries to fit in a few stretches as she gets dressed, having stumbled in around 2AM and forgetting to even put on her pajamas after undressing. She probably doesn't smell super great but if one of her roommates is trying to cook Ava needs to play defense.

Her shirt is still in her hands as she makes her way into the hall, trying to put it right side out as she rounds the corner and sees…a stranger.

It’s a wild deja vu to that boy JC had over a coupole months ago, except this is actually a gorgeous woman - tall as fuck and she’s looming over the stove with a spatula and looks like she knows what she’s doing. “Uh…” Ava lets herself be known, watching the woman turn to look at her, take in the sight of her still kind of topless and then immediately look away.

“Oh you’re…you must be one of the roommates.”

Ava frowns as she finally gets her shirt sorted out and pulls it on. “Yeah, I suppose I am. And you are?” The woman sighs, still standing stock stiff. “My shirt is on, you can look.” There’s a bit of hesitation, but the woman does eventually look at her. “Hi, who the fuck are you?”

“Lilith, I’m…” The woman, Lilith, looks her over a few times and then her eyes go wide. She tames the expression quickly, but it does catch Ava off guard - it’s like she recognizes her. “Oh you…you work at the club.”

“I do…did JC bring you home?”

Lilith scoffs, “please. I stayed the night with Chanel.”

Beatrice has read this letter at least a dozen times since she woke up two days ago and found it in the empty spot on the bed next to her where Ava was supposed to be.

It was such a strange experience, to wake up to a letter, because as soon as she saw it - Beatrice knew exactly what it was.

Because Ava had always felt a little bit fleeting. Like a dream you’re trying to remember right after you wake up. You can remember the way it made you feel, but the details keep evaporating.

Ava was…is an enigma in a lot of ways. She’s so connected to the world, to the people around her, but she’s also very good at keeping everything at a distance.

For as much as Beatrice learned about her and understood her, she also knew very little.

Her leaving didn’t make Beatrice mad. It was sad and disappointing, it’s strangely kind of devastating how much she misses her - but everyone has something going on and Ava is no different.

The hardest part was explaining to everyone why she was suddenly gone. Beatrice didn’t want to make Ava a villain, didn’t see the point in it. She didn’t want to give her parents ammunition to say ‘we told you so’.

So she told them all that Ava had an emergency and had to go back home and take care of it. That she was sorry to miss the wedding and that she had a great time.

Beatrice isn’t sure if her parents believed it, she doesn't really care if they do or not.

She just knows that Josephine didn’t believe her.

She made it through the wedding, the one time she was really able to escape the sinking feeling in her stomach and the emptiness of how quiet and lonely this whole place felt without Ava.

Beatrice stood up there and watched her cousin get married and saw the joy on her face and shared a few warm smiles with her and it was wonderful.

The reception was quiet, she couldn't stop thinking about how much Ava would have loved it. Beatrice felt so disconnected through all of it - like her mind was wherever Ava was, even though she had no idea where that was.

Her stay didn’t last much longer than that, she had to get out of there - get away from them.

AVA: do you think its possible to fall in love with a client and have it work?

Ava stares at the unsent message, knowing that if she sends this to Chanel, it’s going to open up a can of worms she may never be able to close.

It’s terrifying, and she feels somewhere between lovestruck and stupid, because how could this happen? This is the kind of thing she makes fun of JC about.

Her whole plan has always been to make sure the line is clearly drawn in the sand. She’s had clients tell her they loved her. She’s had them offer her jobs and money and futures where she doesn’t have to work anymore just so she can be with them and only them.

It’s not new, it doesn’t make her special - that’s just a part of the job.

For Ava, it’s always been so easy to say no. To ease them away and let Suzanne handle it and then continue with her life as if nothing ever happened.

This though, she didn’t ask for this. She wasn't looking for this. Beatrice was supposed to be her big payday. Easy and uncomplicated, just a lonely rich girl who needed some arm candy and a little backup.

Halo gave that to her, she gave Beatrice everything that she had - but somewhere along the way the line in the sand got washed away by the tide and now Ava feels lost.

Because she’s never been in love before, but she’s starting to think this is what it feels like.

Beatrice is the first thing on her mind every morning, which isn’t surprising since they share a bed, but even if Ava wakes up at one in the morning to roll over, she sees Bea lying next to her and she misses her.

It’s so fucking stupid, she feels so fucking stupid because how could this possibly work?

Hey, remember when you paid me a shitload of money to pretend we were dating, do you think that would be a cute story to tell our kids?

Ava lights up her cigarette and takes the smoke deep into her lungs. “Stupid,” she sighs, because it is and she deletes the message to Chanel and decides to think about it more. She needs to think, she needs to understand what this is she’s feeling.

Beatrice makes a mental note to text Camila. She has to text her and tell her she was right. She has to text her and tell her to start setting up the arrangements for her funeral.

Because Ava is going to kill her. Ava’s mouth and her fingers and her little bag of goodies are going to absolutely destroy her.

The entire time she’s known her, Beatrice has constantly been blown away at how good Ava is at her job. Whether it’s watching her dance or having her play up their relationship. The way she deals with people and how she’s managed to help Beatrice deal with her family - Ava has been incredible.

So it really shouldn't surprise her that the sexual aspect of Ava’s job is on that same level.

Because Ava is amazing in bed and Beatrice is pretty sure her brain is starting to melt.

They have only been back in her parents home for twenty minutes before Ava is between her legs. They’ve been having sex almost every chance they get since that night they spent together in front of the fire. It unleashed something in Beatrice she didn’t even know was there.

For the first time in her life, she fully understands what sexual chemistry feels like. It’s addicting and Beatrice is lost under the spell.

“Ava, please…please I’m…”

Ava is setting a frantic pace, she knows tricks and moves with her mouth and tongue that Beatrice can't even fully comprehend. She can manipulate her, pace her pleasure and make her teeter so close to the edge for as long as she needs her there.

“Hold on, Bea, just hold on and don’t come yet.”

Suddenly, she’s falling back onto the bed and her jeans are being pulled the rest of the way off. Ava tosses them on the floor, then pushes Beatrice's legs together and lifts them so her heels are pointed at the ceiling.