#bulletpro0f

[elizabeaufort]

your muses last message to my muse (ez)

Liz ⇢ Ez: Hiii ya Liz ⇢ Ez: Thanks for sharing the dulce de leche 🤤 Liz ⇢ Ez: it was so yummy! where did i find this?

meme ???? + @bulletpro0f

[suspicioushospitality]

patch .   help  my  muse  patch  up  a  wound . — for Ezra

Silence is something normal between Ezra and Ash. Never uncomfortable - not when Ash's broad hands move in a flurry of signs, knowing his comrade, his friend, will understand each bit. Blood is the inhibitor this time, as his strong brow furrows trying to sign one-handed. Another hand slick with crimson. Still he manages: 'You know this was stupid.' He raises eyebrows at the other. The smallest grin regardless. He can't really stay angry at Ezra. It's impossible. Like flipping off the sun. Ash has done far more foolish things in his years. Perhaps in this moment he just feels his own age more than he'd like. The old mentor, the one with the life experience. The one holed up and away from the action. Maybe he wishes to be as adventurous as Ezra. 'But you probably looked cool doing it, huh?'

[theolangley]

❛ do you like it when i bleed for you? ❜ - for yenna

Even as his fingers work deftly to tie the knot in the tourniquet to make sure Yenna stops bleeding, he starts at her - deadpan features, dead eyes. Though blank, she would know that it's frustration he's masking. "I don't." Ever a man of few words, he looks back down and finishes the work to make sure she's patched up and lets out a heave of a sigh.

"I'd rather you stay unblemished."

[felixsecada]

∗ o9﹕ a text containing a confession . (for ezra)

felix: i get overwhelmed as fuck too, sometimes. felix: not scared. nothing to be scared of. felix: but tired? yeah.

[felixsecada]

closed starter for @bulletpro0f

There are plenty of things on his mind as of late, and plenty of things to do, have done. All of which start with checking in with the man he views as a right hand. His 'bodyguard' is told to stay home on this particular excursion, but he's sure it'll be time soon to induct her fully.

Mostly, though, his mind is on Ezra. Hands in his pockets, he lifts his head in greeting as he arrives just before sliding into the seat of the bar stool next to him.

"Ay." He rolls one of his toothpicks between thumb and forefinger, debating on whether or not to pop it in between his teeth to chew on. "Ain't had a chance to check w'either you or Ash in'a minute, my friend." Beat. "Everything alright on your end'a things?" With the gang, with his son, with his father's dog. Any and all of the above.