#oxentrate

[daemonsdaed]

(long) pork stew

ft. cherry & eugene / @oxentrate

[bobrvynolds]

Starter for @oxentrate // Elijah --

Bob was used to the rush of finals. Everyone's scampering around; both student and professor-- to finish every loose strand they have left before spring break. Admittedly, the professor finds the lack of business during breaks much more anxiety-inducing. An empty head means thoughts, and thoughts can delve into season-long depression.

Days at the university subside the loneliness. The professor comes back to a nearly empty home, unable to really care for a pet due to his extremely busy schedule. So, he opts for other company.

He's a man of morals. But sometimes people click, and when people click, Bob's not really strong enough to pass it up. It just so happened to be with his student.

Elijah Carpenter. Brilliant mind. Hardworking, and funny enough to distract him from the heaviness of the university workload. Though the boy could be so distracted sometimes-- he was willing to lend Bob a hand while he's grading papers.

The ginger boy sits across him from the study table, surrounded by a mess of papers, and nearly empty coffee cups that had gone cold. It's a little over 6 pm, and Bob can feel his stomach turning from hunger. ".. uhh, I think these are fine." He gestures to the pile of graded papers on his left. "You can put these away, and we can maybe go grab dinner from the cafeteria. Are you still alright, Elijah?"

[wntrsghost]

@oxentrate sent [ 7AM ] a crowded coffee shop, patrons in a rush to escape the morning rain. from here !

             the  rain  soaked  the  concrete  sidewalk,  causing  the  stink  of  city  life  to  raise  from  where  it  had  been  baked  into  the  pavement,  giving  the  air  a  thick,  humid  layer.  the  tiny  awning  outside  the  coffee  shop  stuck  out  barely  a  few  feet  from  the  wall  and  did  its  very  best  to  protect  against  the  downpour,  but  could  do  nothing  for  the  tiny  explosions  of  raindrops  on  the  ground.  it  was  a  small  act  of  petulance  but  the  only  one  bucky  could  afford  right  now.  he  might  be  one  hundred…  something…  (  who  kept  track  anymore  anyway?  )  but  he  still  found  ways  to  act  like  a  goddamn  child.

            though  only  seven  am,  time  meant  nothing  to  a  man  who  didn't  sleep  and  he  shook  the  ash  from  his  second  cigarette  of  the  day  onto  the  table  between  them.  if  he  could  muster  the  energy  he  might  look  defiant.  free  hand  wrapped  around  his  white  mug  and  he  took  a  swig  of  the  black  coffee  within--  still  piping  hot,   ❝   so  ---  ❞  the  wind  blew  the  ash  off  the  table  where  it  disappeared  into  the  cold  morning,  ❝   how  long  do  you  think  this  is  going  to  take?   ❞

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

@oxentrate liked for a starter

The gallery was humming with the low murmur of voices, the clink of wine glasses, and the occasional scrape of a chair on polished floors. Soft lighting pooled over each canvas, drawing attention to brushstrokes that carried more weight than most people could see. Liam lingered near the back, black shirt sleeves rolled up, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked more like he’d stumbled in off the street than the man whose name was printed neatly on the program.

He hadn’t expected much — a few curious strangers, maybe someone actually moved enough to ask about a piece. What he hadn’t expected was him.

Across the room, between clusters of patrons shifting from painting to painting, Liam’s gaze snagged on a familiar face. Elijah. The meetings had been dimly lit basements, folding chairs, coffee that tasted like cardboard. Here, under gallery lights, Elijah looked different — sharper, steadier. Out of place, maybe, but so was Liam.

Their eyes met, recognition sparking in an instant. Liam’s chest tightened, the clamor of the room fading for a beat. He hadn’t thought Elijah would ever see this side of him.

For once, Liam moved first. A half-smile tugged at his mouth as he tipped his chin toward the empty space beside him, an unspoken invitation.

[bobrvynolds]

@oxentrate continued from here --

Elijah looks up with a confused squint, standing in his doorway in his robe and boxers (Bob had knocked at an ungodly hour, as he tends to do). His glasses remain somewhere knocked off his bedside table. Round green eyes too tragically blurry to catch the doe-like gaze staring back. The sound of limp tape slapping the ceiling is what brings him to the present. Bob's words only carding through like an exhausted afterthought. Mistletoe. Oh, the fucking goofball. Yeah, 1AM wake up for Mistletoe. Thank christ Elijah likes the guy. It's a tiny breath from his nose. Something almost akin to a laugh that gives the game away. Elijah can only shake his head—tired arms tug Bob under the threshold. Dry, cracked, uncomfortable lips of deep sleep meet Bob's (remarkably soft in comparison). When they pull apart, Elijah yawns. Then, he gestures inside. "C'mon. You never wake me up for just a kiss."

The kiss couldn't come quickly enough. Bob leans into the kiss too much, holds the redhead way too tight for it to be a simple 'mistletoe' visit. In truth, he just couldn't bear Elijah being booked and busy for yet another week.

When he pulls away, Bob licks at his lips; an attempt to savor the taste of Elijah's mouth. He takes off his shoes and lets out a bashful chuckle, letting himself in. "Sorry. I-- uhh.. I missed you."

The younger knows its a lame excuse. Even worse is that he knew Elijah needed the rest, but he couldn't sleep-- couldn't get the doctor out of his head. Moments like these flare up a few times a month. Bob only hopes his lover understands.

He doesn't let them get too far, either. Strong hands gently guide the smaller's hips, fabric of his robe lightly scrunching underneath his fingers. Bob heeds no warning and leans over, nose tip lightly trailing down the side of Elijah's neck-- before leaving wet kisses on their skin, arms fully snaking around his waist. "Can I?"

[wntrsghost]

@oxentrate sent ❝  walk with me. the night feels less empty that way. ❞ from here !

                      the  nature  of  their  relationship  rested  on  a  very  thin  blade  of  trust---  should  one  decide  to  slip  from  that  line,  everything  fell  apart.  ❝   that  sounds  dangerously  normal,  elijah.   ❞  despite  the  quip,  he  reached  for  his  coat  and  tugged  it  over  his  shoulders  slowly.  there  was  nothing  to  eat  here  anyway  and  his  stomach  had  started  to  rumble.  ❝   tom's  is  still  open…  down  the  corner…  ❞  gesturing  with  a  jerk  of  his  chin  toward  the  aforementioned  restaurant,  it  was  the  same  direction  as  his  apartment—  but  that  was  just  a  coincidence. 

         stepping  past  the  younger,  he  sighed  as  the  cold  night  air  immediately  rushed  over  them.  tugging  a  cigarette  from  the  packet  he'd  had  waiting  in  his  pocket,  he  held  it  between  his  teeth  and  lit  it,  but  he  only  took  one  drag  before  passing  it  to  elijah.  the  street  glittered  with  christmas  lights  and  a  soft  murmur  floated  above  the  city--  the  sound  of  a  million  voices  scattered  across  the  island.  he  would  take  anything  to  escape  the  horrors  that  seemed  to  always  catch  up  with  him  in  the  rare,  precious  moments  of  sleep.  ❝   that's  a  sorry  excuse  for  a  jacket.   ❞  he  grumbled  lowly,  peeling  his  own  coat  off  and  draping  it  over  the  other's  shoulders.  ❝   a  cool  breeze  is  going  to  knock  you  over--  you  could  use  the  extra  layer.   ❞

[daemonsdaed]

@oxentrate said: 👀 // all of them sounds really funny so as usual i'm letting you take the wheel #myjesus

"Doc Carp is, like...he's not ugly. No, it's...from the back, that one time, I really thought—I mean, in the face, he doesn't look anything like Penny. Except the glasses. Same hair color too. That's all. I don't wanna think about this. Kinda fucking me up. Now ol' crazy eyes? I'm not, like, profiling, I swear, but if Nikita wasn't the type to give me a little warning, I'd definitely think something was off. But is he cute? Reply hazy, try again. Text neck passes the vibe check. He's, like, kind of pathetic, y'know? I like that in a guy. Doesn't win as many points on the yummy scale as a pornstache, but you can't win 'em all."

"When Dr. Carpenter's face lights up, you feel it. Right here." Briefly, his hand hovers over his heart. "It's...the opposite sensation from Dr. Hansson. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing. Crowley...hm. For what it's worth, I'd certainly like to examine him. Frankly, Combs is a bit intimidating. Ah—none of this is leaving the circle, right?"

"In an oblique way, the little one reminds me vaguely of my Henry... well, he's cute, you know? Charming. As for the tall one, his manner of dress is quite appealing. He's exactly the sort of mistake I'd make in my youth. And the one who looks a bit—" She does her best to mimic a concerned, spacey expression. "—well, if he's as bumbling as first impressions are leading me to believe, I daresay he's worth a second impression. There's a strange appeal to the nutty professor types, did you know? I'm highly particular about facial hair, but it's been brought to my attention once that I've a thing for funny monkey men." She shrugs in defeat.

"I dunno, Shorty's kinda sneaky-hot. I wouldn't kick him out of bed. On the flip side? Talk about a Genie in a bottle, baby. Y'think he'd ever model for me? He's got the kinda frame clothes love. I'm into this in a major way. McDreamy's not bad. He's got all these funny angles y'don't usually see in humans—fun to watch. The other guy looks like he could get me into all kindsa trouble. Not sure how I feel about that. Mark me down as scared and horny, I guess."

"Mr. Glasses is a pocket prince. He's so small and cute, he could be a charm on my bag! And Mr. Fancy is a full-size prince. Piercing eyes that stare straight into your soul, and such long, elegant limbs—ooh, do you think he can dance? I could stare at him forever. He's everything...but Mr. Worrywart, I'd rather hold his hands. That person, he needs someone to help him know that everything is going to be okay. I could be his someone! Mr. Ratty doesn't need anyone, but he should call me." She shivers, or maybe it's a shimmy. "Tell him to call me, okay? He's wild!"

"Charity's an idiot. Carpenter looks nothing like Harry Potter, but I'm not disappointed. Hansson is someone to be wary of. He's got that fae look, ne? Ag, man, what if we're distant relatives...no, thank you. Crowley doesn't exactly inspire scintillating conversation, but a good face will take you far—unlike Russ. That mustache isn't doing him any favors. Eish! Maybe he lost a bet..."

[bobrvynolds]

🌿🍒 — give Euge some lovin'

These weekly tests weren't something Bob looked forward to, but if they were to really figure out what's going on with his body and the serum, the brunette had to oblige.

It gives him an excuse to see Elijah in the medical wing, anyways. That's always a plus, even if the sterile surroundings and white walls and the constant hospital smell remind him too much of Kuala Lumpur.

Bob rubs at the bandage on his arm and almost bumps into the taller, causing him to stop mid-walk. "Whoops-- sorry," he looks up to meet Eugene's eyes, and Bob swallows thickly.

Right above them, just past Eugene's head-- like what, a few centimeters off of the ceiling-- hangs a mistletoe, undoubtedly placed by one of the other staff members as they spruced up the place.

Oh god.

Actually, god probably thinks he's so funny right now. Or any fucking divine being that somehow weaved this interaction into his day today.

Bob makes a sour face, brows knitted and gritted teeth, before turning the other way (wrong way out, Bob)-- and then circling towards Eugene's right side, promptly dashing out the door.