May 24, 2017
text || ira>>ezra
Ira: heeeeey Ira: I have a friend who really wants a no strings attached rough fuck and he has a thing for dilfs Ira: can i introduce you two
@ezracarsonx
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text || ira>>ezra
Ira: heeeeey Ira: I have a friend who really wants a no strings attached rough fuck and he has a thing for dilfs Ira: can i introduce you two
@ezracarsonx
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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>>Ezra
Beau: whats a hoodrat?
ezracarsonx replied to your post: fuck marry kill three men of your choice
Ira who?
same
Text >> Ezra
Text: i do NOT like that gosip blog
Text: why are they so mean
Text: do you think its one person or a lot of people?
Text: maybe its emery. he's mean.
@ezracarsonx
@ezracarsonx
Ashcroft had been sitting absently at a table in the common room. Slender fingers rapping in succession on the expensive wood. It had been.. days. Days since his lighter had been taken, days since he'd been given a job, fucking.. days.. since he'd been able to see the flicker of flames. His actions.. attitude, even his appearance seemed to give the impression of some kind of addict. Of an addict jonesing as his gaze flickered around harshly, full lips pursing and his gaze shifting to stop at the window. Shrewd, expression cunning. He needed to do something, he needed the flicker of heat, the vivid intensity of white hot flames, and the longer it took, the more likely he was to do something, anything, to get it. To get out.
His head barely turned when he heard the thud of footsteps, focused entirely on something that wasn't exactly in front of him. After several seconds, however, his gaze shifted, and narrowed up at Ezra, bristling defensively. As if he's been considering something he shouldn't.
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Beau had been hard at work the past two weeks. Every room in Ezra's apartment was now clean and comfortable and every surface sparkled, so although Beau hadn't yet tackled any significant reno projects, the suite still seemed to have undergone a transformation, right down to the lightly scented sachets tucked into the back of every drawer. Clothes were freshly washed and pressed, and the place had a general feel of home-iness now that made Beau feel satisfied. But just as he was getting everything in his new residence in proper order, it seemed that the tower itself was falling apart. A pot of beef bourguignon was simmering away on the stove, starting to bubble over because Beau had forgotten about it completely. He was out on the couch, watching the news story of Bellamy's arrest on the TV. It had been going for several hours, so he wasn't as horrified as he had been at first, but they kept playing the footage of Bellamy being led out of the tower in handcuffs over and over, and every time Beau got a sick twisting of fear in his gut. This was terrible.. poor Bellamy. What would happen to him? To all of them now? What if everything collapsed? What if Ezra got dragged away to jail too? Beau unconsciously twisted his fingers through the shirt he was wearing - Ezra's, of course - and jumped when the door suddenly opened. "Ezra?!" @ezracarsonx
After exchanging texts with Ano from the privacy of Ezra's bathroom, Beau needed a few extra minutes to pull himself together. He'd done some crying, but that was nothing a little cold water to the face couldn't fix. He was now officially forbidden from talking to his friends. That hadn't stopped him from sending an immediate WHAT THE FUCK text to Aiden though, and it wasn't going to stop him from continuing in his dedication to taking care of Ezra. It was just going to make everything.. harder. And the stakes much higher. Ano couldn't know, and Beau was determined that he never would. But Ano was at work during the day most of the week and Beau had empty hours and if left to his own devices Ezra would be back to eating cereal and Beau couldn't let that happen.
Brushing his hair back out of his eyes, he flushed the toilet for appearance's sake, washed his hands, and hustled back out into the living room, keeping his steps quiet in case Ezra had fallen asleep again. Seeing that the man was awake though, Beau smiled at him as he trotted past, picking up a pair of discarded socks off the floor and balling them up to take to the hamper later.
"So- feeling in the mood for lunch? You got a lot of options in the fridge I can put together, or I could make a veggie stir fry or something. What sounds good?"
@ezracarsonx
Whiskey Hotel Yankee
He'd stayed away - far away - while Ezra had been in the hospital. His conviction and determination to visit the man had lasted only as long as his high, and when that wore off Beau found that his confidence had as well. He didn't know where he stood with Ezra anymore. He didn't know where he wanted to stand with him either. Everything in that drawer was very mixed up and confused, tangled with thoughts and feelings Beau really didn't want to deal with. So he contented himself with keeping sharp eyes and ears out, and plundering the rumor mill for news on the associate's condition. Which was how he knew the moment Ezra was back in his own suite and alone.
Now he made use of the key card he'd made for himself from a copy of Ezra's own and stashed away months ago, letting himself into the apartment. He didn't do it to be rude, or creepy; Ezra was still in pain and Beau just didn't like the idea of making him get up to answer a knock at his door.
He padded through the hallway toward the living room, not troubling particularly to be over-quiet, until he found the man he sought. Beau came to a stop in the doorway, an immediate tightness manifesting in his stomach at the sight of him.
".. Hi."
@ezracarsonx