#thread: ezra

[dewbands]

Ezra turned to the person sitting beside them and flashed a dazzling smile. “So what is good to drink around here? Are there any specials here in Pelican Town? Sorry if the question sounds a bit obvious, I haven’t spent much time in the valley.”

[jcshuaxselwyn]

“I know as a teacher I’m supposed to be supportive of my students and everything, but you know what- thank fuck it’s summer and I don’t have to hear teenage angst from anyone but Archer- and he’s easy. He’s just quiet a lot of the time. You are paying for this- right? Cause I conveniently left my wallet some place.”

@ezra-bishop

[jcshuaxselwyn]

“So how’s married life going for you? Are you going to name your first child Joshua since it was me who made you aware that you were still technically married and therefore should be thanked for getting you two back together?”

@ezra-bishop​

[everettxpickcring]

Everett had spent many of his young years trying to imitate his sister and there was one thing he was very proud on delivering to the same extent as Emma, the patented Pickering death glare. The one he had been given the other male for at least five minutes before marching over to where he sat, “So I’m taking it you just enjoy ruining the Holiday season for everyone but yourself, right?”

@ezra-bishop​

[everettxpickcring]

“Ezra Bishop.” Everett stated as he spotted the elder man sitting at a table by himself, “Long time no see, which is a rather big shame granted we’ve been family for what- ten years now? Guess I should take this opportunity to get to know my brother in law better. Coffee?”

@ezra-bishop​

[latinverbis-archive]

@waydcwnwego​ sent “you don’t have to do this for me” for a starter.

The physician looked up in mild surprise after Ezra had tucked Jess into bed and then let out a soft huff of laughter at the slightly serious expression on her pretty, if exhausted, visage. His own softened as a smile curved his mouth, his hands smoothing the wrinkles out of the duvet.

"Nonsense, Miss Myrddin!" Always so formal, was the good Doctor Cross, as he leaned his elbows on the bed to cause his shoulders to droop a little, losing the somewhat austere stance associated with the tall individual. Ezra reached toward Jess, the backs of his fingers dragging lightly down the side of her face, "Of course I do, Jess," he murmured and continued,"You're coughing, complaining of chest discomfort, fatigue, you're warm—which probably means you've got a bit of a fever—and I didn't like the way your lungs sounded when I listened to your breathing."

[mybrctherskeeper]

  The weekend off. And not the sort with asterisks on the circumstance--Ezra made certain that he had every last of these full forty-eight hours clear. He’d rightly earned whatever vacation time he wished: offering gracious compliance every extra moment either places of his employ required, even during time that was originally designated as his own. It was a rarity indeed where he could have a block of time such as this free, both as his main source of income instructing others in various forms of dance, in addition to his part time gigs in whatever modelling any freelancer would throw his way. Now that he was certain he would have it, he was determined outright to make the most out of how he wished to spend it.

  The studio, he locked up for the evening at nine exactly. That had him seething, if only inwardly, and if only the smallest amount his mellowed nature would allow. It was far later than he would have wished it to be, but there was little a southernbred like himself could do when faced with his clientele. Once word broke out in the middle-aged, single female circuit that a young, ripe, North Carolinian looker had found himself the new instructor at their hobby-stop studio, he’d been flooded in each session he held, and overcome with racy flirting that held him and his polite entertaining of it until all hours of the evening. He could only hope that wouldn’t upset Josie too greatly. Though if it did, he didn’t mind making it up.

  His setup was complete within the next hour or so: floating candles, unfortunately cheap wine fresh from the freezer, expensive fruit to make up for said wine. The music, he would focus on later. He’d already decided enough for this particular evening. The gentleman in him wished to leave the rest up to whom he’d planned it all for. That though alone had a subtle grin on him as he called her, and a hum of a chuckle rumbling from him as the phone rang.

  “Hey. Tell me you don’t have any plans...” he spoke the second she’d picked up, “And I mean forreal. I just had to fight Angel outta the house.” Never easy. “And I ain’t seen you all week, I’m hurtin’.”

@josephinethetempest