black out days;

❝ the sudden urge to e s c a p e can be prompted by one of those cold, gray days that makes you more than ever aware of your ( solitude ) and intensifies your feeling that a trap is about to close.❞ home to jack russo & soren wilde

[anecdochism-blog]

IM SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ON MUCH i havent had proper laptop access lately + my muse has been [poop emoji] but i’ll be on soon.........hopefully~~

[carrws]

Break time was his time; time to breath the fresh air, time to pull out his notebook, time to embrace the new world he lived in. So, when break time arose on this empty Friday afternoon, he couldn’t help but be content by the entire idea. Not that he would say he hated his job; he’d only had it for a number of days, and the socialisation that came from it was enough to fill a lifetime’s worth. But everyone needed a break, and even this charismatic fool found a necessity in that. His mind was jumbled with words that needed to be placed upon a page, ones that had been sitting there since the sun rose. His pen was already onto paper as he sat in one of the booths of the coffee shop, shirt stained from the coffee beans he’d been working with only moments earlier, when he sensed a presence nearby. “Hey there,” he spoke as he looked towards their direction, grin on his lips, notebook closing slowly, as if his alone time hadn’t just been intruded upon. It wasn’t important, he always preferred socialisation anyway. “Something you’re wanting?”

[anecdochism-blog]

it was a while back that he found out that he worked more efficiently if he was at a public place, somewhere that allowed him little to no freedom to do what he wanted, which was basically just curling up on his vintage flea market couch, torn leather here and there, downing a couple of cans of beer or perhaps even smoking a joint to clear his head. he never did get anything done at home, so putting himself under the scrutinizing stares of strangers and letting them silently pressure him into doing his work seemed to work best. he entered the cafe near his apartment, one that he’d frequented enough to have the barista give him a familiar smile and ‘are we having a caramel macchiato today, soren?’ he’d ordered his coffee, as well as a warm glazed doughnut because why not? he’d carried both on a tray and looked for a vacant seat, but to no avail.

he did, however, find a booth far back into the room that had what looked like an employee jotting some things down on a notebook. well, he looked like an employee, anyway, with what he was wearing. his presence seemed to have been noticed when the man looked up at him, and his instinct dictated that he offer a charming smile, which he did. “you work here, right?” he said, giving the edges of the tray a tighter grip. “i just wanted to ask if you’d mind sharing the booth. everywhere else is full.”

[taylorxxolsen]

It had been three weeks since she’d closed on the house. Three weeks since she had officially become Meghan and left that old part of her behind. A big beach house might now have been a perfect plan, but it wasn’t like people were going to be looking for someone living the high life, more someone trying to live under the radar. Hearing someone coming down the beach her head turned, a light smile on her face. “Good morning.”

[anecdochism-blog]

the house his family owned by the beach was huge, too big for two people to occupy. his parents had sent sonja, his childhood governess (or his lifetime caretaker, as sonja so fondly called herself), to come keep him company at their estate. and as much as he loved the graying woman, he’d protested, telling his mother and father that he could manage on his own, that he didn’t need anyone looking after him, but he’d lost the argument. besides, his father told him, sonja could use a little vacation herself. this way, everybody won.

the house was along a line of other beach houses by the sandy shore, though most of them were unoccupied. upon pulling up in front of the family vacation house in his prius the other day, though, he noticed the house next to his. what he remembered to be a barren property seemed now to be someone’s residence. he hadn’t seen the owner around in the few days that he’d been in town, and so curiosity got the best of him when he stepped out into his back porch today and saw a figure sitting in the next house. grabbing a trash bag that sonja was preparing to take out, he walked further away from his backdoor, past the low, practically useless fence gate, and stepped out into the sand. she was a woman, he saw, as he took a closer look -- a pretty blonde. he did not let his gaze linger for too long, however, or else he might be accused of staring. 

opening the trash binjust outside the fence, he placed the bag inside and tried to squeeze it in by attempting to push the lid against it. he’d made too much noise for him to have gone unnoticed, he thought, as he heard the woman’s faint voice, greeting him with a good morning. dropping the lid on top of the bag that was still peeking out from the bin, he looked up and offered her a slightly sheepish smile. “just, uh... just taking out the trash.”

[bo-van-houten-blog]

“You know, when I started this job, I was like; yeah, fun, working with a bunch of teenagers! I mean, how hard can it be? But god damn one of the kids in my class is such a little bitch I swear to god!” Her words were lightly slurred as Bo twirled her third glass martini around. She was tired and even though the blonde wasn’t one to complain often, now Bo just couldn’t help it. “One of the kids of really sweet though! Krystal, I think she’s called. She was actually making sure some shut their mouths and she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to tell. Of course those little shits got me sidetracked though, asking me about my personal life and all that as an introduction. I didn’t catch on until we were halfway of class.”

[anecdochism-blog]

much too focused on his drink, watching the golden liquid move in small waves as he tipped the glass back and forth, he hadn’t noticed the blonde sitting next to him on the bar speaking, not until she’d stopped. he wasn’t drunk yet, not even tipsy, although he did wish he was. turning his head just the slightest to look over at the woman, he furrowed his brows and said, “what class? what are you talking about?” hostility was not the tone he meant to use, but the words had rolled off his tongue so easily that he hadn’t had the time to stop himself. he’d utilize the common excuse of having had a long day at work, of having had dealt with one too many patients in one day, but he couldn’t, as he was on vacation, which he often had to remind himself.

[anecdochism-blog]

honcymoons replied to your post:[[MOR] honcymoons replied to your post:[[MO I...

hONESTLY ITS SO GOOD if i ever need sad pasts i know where to go

AHHH thank u ;-; and also lmao margo pLS

[anecdochism-blog]

caspianxxgranger replied to your post:[[MOR] I FORGOT TO MAKE A POST ABOUT MY NEW BBY...

I love him already.

thank u omg <333

[anecdochism-blog]

strangers when we meet --- belle & jordan (@pullingdcisies)

stretched out on his willowy blanket, a large umbrella casting a cool shadow over him that kept him in the shade, jordan attempted to allow his often-tense muscles to relax and let the sound of the small waves swish-swish-swishing along the nearby shore to soothe him. his loose tank top rested underneath his head, leaving him naked from the torso up, and his chest, as well as his abdomen, were slick with oil that his skin was slowly absorbing under the heat of the sun. he needed this, needed a day to just let the stress in his body to dissipate and dissolve and melt into a puddle that would soon evaporate if he ignored it long enough. even still, being on a paid vacation with no work to worry about, no lives hanging on the line to save, and  the perfect backdrop that any of his coworkers would kill to be in, he could not bring himself to be fully at ease. tension shrouded his shoulders, try as he might to stop them from going rigid. this seemed to be his default.

still, he lay there, cushioning his head on his hands, trying to enjoy his first day back in chester. he hadn’t been to this town in a while; his last visit being a few years back to stay at their beach house for christmas with his family and he remembered this quite clearly, because it was the first christmas he’d spent with her. a lifetime ago, he thought, as he dismissed the memory. he was on the verge of falling asleep, and it seemed to be the only time he would ever be at ease, his muscles relaxing, as he slowly slipped into gradual unconscious.

and then it hit him.

quite literally, on the face. 

a volleyball just a couple of inches larger than his head. he made a loud groan in response before, “fucking hell!” he exclaimed, a searing pain on the bridge of his nose prompting him to open his eyes. a blinding light greeted him, before it was blocked by a figure that formed a silhouette. “could you fucking watch yourself, mate? that hurt like a bitch.” he checked his nostrils for any bleeding. thankfully, there was none.

[anecdochism-blog]

honcymoons replied to your post:[[MOR] I FORGOT TO MAKE A POST ABOUT MY NEW BBY...

WHAT A POOR LIL ANGEL IM HEART EYES

i have a thing for Tragedy i need to s T OP

[anecdochism-blog]

I FORGOT TO MAKE A POST ABOUT MY NEW BBY JORDAN alright so here goes

jordan price (max irons)

30 yrs old

from sydney

he comes from a family of like overachievers bc his mom’s a lawyer and his dad is like a rly rly well known doctor in sydney

so he followed in his foosteps bc he wanted to be like dad yanno??? he wanted to make him proud. and it wasn’t even his dad pressuring him to become a doctor. it was a path he chose on his own accord so yehhh

he became a surgeon

and a really good one at that

ANYWAY his story for coming to chester is this:

he met a woman he fell in love with she’s like an architect or idk maybe she works at the hospital also IDK im keeping this open for a potential connection

just know that she’s really hardworking and focused on her work a lot and she just seemed like a career woman who’d be an ideal partner for jordan 

and things were ok between them but then ONE DAY ONE DAY jordan found her in THEIR bed (bc they were at the point in their relationship wherein they were sharing an apartment) with his BEST FRIEND and so it just kind of destroyed him ok

bc his whole world had revolved around the woman and she just single-handedly ruined him

so he was rly sad for a while but he tried not to let it affect his work bc it was all had back then

he kept his Pain TM inside 

until one day he made a mistake during an operation and that was it

he stopped showing up to work 

then his dad suggested that he go stay at their beach house in chester for a while to clear his mind and let him start on a clean slate 

so yeah he’s here now~~

COME LOVE HIM he’s a sad toll bean 

[charlesxxrogers]

His shrugged matched the other man’s, honestly he hadn’t thought through what this place was going to be like. He knew bits and pieces of how it would be different though he never imagined neighbours talking about him. “People keeping to themselves, not really wanting to know about unimportant newbies.” He nodded, “I’m hoping not, it’s a nice place.” This guy was definitely flirting with him, there was no doubt in his mind anymore. “Is that an odder to help me move in?”

[anecdochism-blog]

“we don’t often get new people ‘round here,” he admitted. “and when we do, they’re usually just visiting for the summer. and when they’re settling in for good, well, you best expect they’ll be the talk of the town.” he flashed a nice little grin at charles. “well, if you’re willing to let a complete stranger into your new home, i’m pretty much free this afternoon.”

[hartovermind]

jacob snorted a laugh, shaking his head at soren’s words. daddy issues really only was the tip of the iceberg - there was mommy issues too, and issues with his ex-fiancee and his siblings and pretty much everyone else that jacob had left behind when he fled new york. issues was barely even a label for the man anymore, it was a way of life. “first time i’ve ever run from something.” jacob found himself confessing. “most of the time i just ignored shit or let it happen.” he shrugged careless and glanced away, seemingly lost in his thoughts before soren’s final question brought him back. “ah - new york.” jacob confessed, nodding his head. “born and raised.”

[anecdochism-blog]

moving his hand, he swirled his drink in the cup as he listened to the other man speak. he clucked his tongue. “keeping things inside, sweeping dirt under the rug - it’s not gonna do you any good, pal. everyone knows that,” he said, matter-of-factly. he had seen and felt enough in his twenty-nine years to know these things, had accumulated enough wisdom to be able to share it with someone else. “of course, not everyone has the convenience of throwing caution to the wind and going with their gut feeling, you know? it would’ve been a damn shame if you’d kept living the life of a stoic, so i gotta say, it’s about time you’ve made a decision for yourself.” he spoke like he knew jacob from the get-go, like they were close friends confiding secrets in each other, but that was just habit of making himself comfortable around people. he raised his eyebrows at the mention of his place of origin. “new york, that’s pretty cool. i’ve only ever been like, twice in my life. it’s a beautiful city.” a beat. “you’re far from home.”

[scmebcdies-blog]

It wasn’t very difficult to make Farrah smile. She was one of those people who smiled when they had the chance, one of those people who smiled at the silliest things. Some said it was naivety, others said foolishness. Those who used to love her now hated her, and they tore at her flaws — little traits like these — and ate up every mistake she committed. And they said she was too nice, so fake, unreal; they said she was wearing a façade to play the role of an innocent girl when she was anything but.

But, as always, Farrah did not care one bit. Once upon a time, she used to. Once upon a time, she defined herself with the words of others, defined herself with what others made of her. But that was a time and place she had left behind, a home she had stopped calling a home and thus turned into a house. These days, she had resolved within herself: she would smile when she wanted to smile, laugh when she wanted to laugh, and be who she wanted to be. She would not let the words of others dictate who she was — not anymore. And being here, in a different city, miles away from what she left behind, she was fine.

So, a smile bloomed on her lips at the man’s words, and it grew even wider when the man offered to show her the way instead of just give her directions.

“Thank you!” The words left her lips with ease. No thoughts of being a bother or of being a nuisance crossed her mind — not even when the man said he didn’t mind. “You’re a very kind stranger. Though, I reckon you should tell me your name before we get going. Mother always said never to go with strangers. My name’s Farrah. Yours?”

[anecdochism-blog]

he liked to think that he was well-versed in the art of seduction, treading through the shallow waters of subtlety first, before hiking his pant legs up as he made his way further away from the shore. he was patient, he would play the long game with her, play it as long as it took him, even if that meant taking her to a flower shop he wasn’t even sure existed. most people would call him conniving, but it wasn’t like he had horrible intentions. he preferred to use the term ‘resourceful’. because really, he was just working with what he had, and his assets were the best parts of him.

he shoved his phone into his pocket and wound the cord of his earphones loosely around his neck. he fixed his gaze on her, the cobalt in his eyes warm, as she introduced herself, giving him a name with which he would call her with. “farrah,” he repeated, not to remind himself, no, but more of to be able to pronounce the name in such a way that she would might consider charming, especially in his thick accent. extending a hand towards her, he said, “soren.” 

[endlesssxmmer-blog]

“that asshole?” she let out a sarcastic laugh. no. hell would have to freeze over before darren took anything seriously. “he’s got a girlfriend. i don’t know which one of them is worse, to be honest.” for some reason she was trying to stop herself from telling him that he made her realise she was just like him. he was the one who opened her eyes. still. she didn’t want to give him any credit for changing her life. good or bad. “he was high most of the time anyway. fuck knows what he’s got out there.”

as much as she was enjoying finally having someone to open up to again, it all felt too surreal for her. it was almost as though she wanted him to hate her. she wanted to be told she was a selfish asshole and she didn’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. especially not his or gabe’s or her mother’s. she could sense there was something he wasn’t telling her, but she wasn’t sure if she should push him to say it. after all, this was the first nice conversation she’d had with anyone since her return. “what about you? is kidney failure still in your future?” she tried to joke. 

[anecdochism-blog]

he chuckled, a soft laugh that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch up. he was aware of the strained kind of relationship that she had with her parents, especially with her deadbeat father, and while his own parents had never really abandoned him, they were never understanding. they liked to think they were doting of him and his siblings, and they’ve provided for them financially, but that was as far as they threw the ball. no i-love-you’s or i’m-proud-of-you’s that soren might have wanted to hear every once in a while. and so he understood, somewhat, a certain kind of resentment that leah felt for her father, though he will never compare notes.

he was relieved to know that her savage humor was still present, that they had the easy kind of relationship that entailed insulting each other but still remaining friends. “most likely, yeah.” a nod. “but as long as the are no doctors telling me to stop drinking myself silly, i think i’m good.”

[stcrmin-blog]

Again, an eyeroll and another step further away from his lips ever cracking into a smile, except now most of his refusal was hinged out of spite, a refusal to give in to whatever this guy was hoping to get out of this conversation. In his line of work and with the closing shift, Joshua often found himself sharing company with either students adamant on digging their heels in and being as petulant as possible or drunks and their friends trying to sober them up before shipping them off back home. Now he knew that Soren wasn’t of either two, but he was even more annoyed because he seemed to have molded into a heady combination of both. “Makes sense that you’d resort to mentioning bodily functions as a form of humor, although I would have expected more out of a professor… you are a professor, yes?” 

He nodded at the papers again, trying his best not to smirk as he now proceeded to lay a card on the table, so to speak. It has always been his favorite hobby to study people, figure them out and then one by one tell them what he thought of them, gaining momentum with each correct observation. In their short conversation, Joshua already felt like he’d read a book on this man’s life… and he still had yet to know his name. “I’ve met my fair share of egoists but I have to tell you, none have ever been so in denial as you. Is this some form of compensation for… I want to say, lack of attention from parents who worked too much or lack of attention from peers who previously thought less of you so now you’re painting on a facade of overconfidence and machismo?” On the subject of his name, a hand dug into his pocket then tossed something on the table - his nameplate, still sleek despite the length of his stay in his position. “ ‘She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment and to call each thing by its right name.’ Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak. Don’t call me darling. ”

[anecdochism-blog]

he could tell that he was already getting on the other man’s nerves, could sense him brimming with a certain brand of aversion for him. his inner child him wanted to further annoy him, but he was torn between that and wanting more of the challenge that this man was. a short nod was sent towards the cafe employee’s way at the mention of his profession and coupled it with a response of, “i’m an academic, yes. comes as a surprise to most people, would you believe it?” the tinge of sarcasm wasn’t hard to miss. often, his self-deprecating humor was meant to act as some form of reverse psychology to the person he was conversing with, to make him seem more desirable, for some twisted reason. but this, now, was something else altogether, so really, that sarcastic remark was more of him waving a flag for his self-awareness. 

a smirk formed on his lips as the man did studied him. this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to understand where he was coming from, why he was the way that he was. he’d pissed off many a psychology professors in his time at the university, enough to have them psychoanalyze him one way or another. some of them hit close to home, but other attempts really just humored him. he didn’t see why this time would be any different. "well, that would just make me predictable.” a sip from his drink, teeth sinking into the straw. “and i like to think i’m some kind of mystery. tall dark and handsome. wouldn’t you?” fingers reaching for the nameplate, his eyes scanned over the plastic. a familiar quote was spoken, and he raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips into an impressed smile. “ ‘i had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.’ araby, james joyce. nice to meet you, josh.”

[wcfall-blog]

“’Course I’m alright. Did I not look like it?” He was aware of the default sad frown on his face. But it’s not like he was sad during that moment. If anything, he was confused. Worried. And even more worried now that he’s heard the tone in the other man’s response. River shifted on his feet, hugged the grocery bag to his chest. “Sure you’re fine, mate? Waiting on anyone? It’s gettin’ dark. This sure is a small town; t’ doesn’t mean it’s always safe out.”

[anecdochism-blog]

“okay. you’re - you’re alright.” he could see the puzzled expression on the other male’s face, and if he were in his shoes, he’d probably be sporting the same look. probably even with a hint of fear, for he did not know what the man sitting on that parking block was capable of. but here was now, and he was the man on the parking block, and he knew that the things he was capable of were not many. and certainly not a threat to anyone. he ground his heel on the asphalt to crush a small innocent ant, and it made him feel powerful, for a moment. he kept his eyes down. “not... i’m not, i’m --- i’m not waiting for an...nyone.” a sigh escaped his lips. “i’m - i’m lost.”

[eurphxria-deactivated20160529]

Dylan felt a wave of confusion hit her when Jack asked about her eyes. Why did they look like that? She repeated the question in her head. Although the easiest answer to his question was to just say ‘because they are.’ But obviously that wasn’t enough for the boy sitting opposite her, she could tell he wasn’t the one to have a filter and her comment would just lead him to ask more questions. “My mum most likely, seeming her eyes are blue but not as bright as mine. I guess I’m lucky. Why, not a fan of blue eyes?”

[anecdochism-blog]

being engaged in such a conversation as he was in right now was never on his agenda, so he didn’t expect to be in one, especially since people usually dismissed him within the first few minutes. and realizing what he’d just said to the woman, that comment about her eyes--they’re still too blue--he was waiting for her to just end the conversation and maybe leave to finish what was left of her sandwich some place else. 

but the fact of the matter was that she was here, and she was humoring him with an answer. a calloused thumb running over the crust of the sandwich, he said, “i - i think... blue eyes are --- they’re great.” he nodded his head. “yours are... they are just - just a scary kind of... blue. like being stuck... in - in the middle of the ocean,  you know, and... you.... you look down and there’s the blue of the - of the...” a pause as he struggled to continue. “the, um... the deep sea. and you know that it’s - it’s like a million feet to the bottom... of the ocean.  of the ocean. you know? and there’s like, a thousand - a thousand different shit down there.” a small shrug.

[eurphxria-deactivated20160529]

Dylan took her half, handing him the other half that was on the plate. “Here,” she said, giving him a small smile before taking another bite of her sandwich. Dylan glared at him, “and that’s your opinion, no need to repeat the word weird again.” She responded, regretting her generosity when she gave him half of her sandwich. “Right.”

[anecdochism-blog]

he accepted half of the sandwich and took a small bite, teeth sinking into the bread. he wiped the corners of his mouth from crumbs with the back of his hand and put the sandwich down, using his palm as the plate. “right, right - uh, i’m... sorry.” the apology was sincere enough; whatever filter he had, whatever manners and etiquette his aunt vanessa had taught him, they’ve all been obliterated. there was a slight pause after she’d muttered the word, and he found himself looking at her eyes. a bright blue, almost translucent. and before he could stop himself, before he could bite his tongue, the words had rolled off it: “why do... why do your eyes - your eyes look like... that?”