annie is calling to me

No title available
Peter Solarz
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
🪼

PR's Tumblrdome
DEAR READER
No title available

pixel skylines
taylor price

oozey mess
Jules of Nature
KIROKAZE

⁂

No title available
Misplaced Lens Cap

if i look back, i am lost

tannertan36
d e v o n
wallacepolsom
YOU ARE THE REASON
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from France
seen from Kuwait

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Romania

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil

seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@revokedlicense
annie is calling to me
*slowly removes my heart-shaped sunglasses* i beg your fucking pardon
travn:
‘ hmm? ’ it’s enough to draw his attention away from the coffee maker, sleep-tinged eyes glancing at her from over his shoulder with all the interest he can manage on a saturday morning — which, when it comes to annie, is actually quite a lot. especially now, with the sudden flare of vulnerability burning up his spine. maybe if he gave it some thought, he might recall a passing comment from college or the academy, some gibe about mumbling in his sleep, but the roommates of his early twenties are long forgotten in the once-empty space of his apartment. he’s been sleeping alone for years now (mostly, consistently) — nobody’s been around to learn this tidbit, much less share it with him, until annie.
and he knows very well that the dreams he has now are different from the dreams he had seven years ago. hell, they’re different from the dreams he had months ago. he imagines whatever he’s talking about is, too, if it’s even intelligible.
the light of the coffee maker blinks red as the smell of fresh brew begins to fill the kitchen. he turns to search for his favorite mug — his only mug, until recent circumstances called for a second, which he was all too happy to run out and buy — taking only seconds to find it where he always leaves it, in the cabinet above and beside the stove, before turning back around.
‘ ‘s news to me, ’ he mumbles in that way he does when he isn’t quite awake, when he has yet to have his first cup of coffee. his smile echoes the feeling, filled with a tired sort of tenderness and a touch of apprehension. because what he talks about in his sleep is too close to what he sees in his sleep, and what he sees in his sleep is nothing he wants her to worry about and everything he wants to protect her from. it’s a scab he wants to keep hidden, one he wasn’t aware his own self could potentially rat out. ‘ anything interesting? ’
❛ mostly mumbling, something about . . . uh, you said to wait up at one point, i think. ❜
annie’s smiling, telling jack about his sleep-talking habit almost happily, as if it were a simple, endearing quirk, despite what it may suggest about his underlying anxieties. jack moves around in his sleep, sometimes, too -- when he’s dreaming DEEPLY, it seems -- he can be a very physical, restless sleeper at times. but annie leaves that part out. jack’s always been a very physical person, anyhow, it shouldn’t be news to him . . . and perhaps it’s painful, too, what he’s doing in his dreams. she can only imagine the types of things he’s seen . . . the types of dreams he’s dreaming . . . and she doesn’t want to make him remember them again. but the talking seems harmless enough to be a good icebreaker in the morning. annie can’t help but mention that.
she’s wrapped ( swallowed up, rather ) in a plaid sweater that is clearly not her own, about four sizes too large, head and shoulder leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. she’s smiling, gently, watching jack; or the back of his head, rather, make coffee, holding her own store-bought red mug in a completely sleeve-covered hand.
❛ my brother used to talk in his sleep, ❜ annie continues. ❛ when we were kids. sometimes we’d have to share a room on camping trips our dad made us go on. he’d always talk about really weird things. it was so funny. ❜ annie crinkles her nose in a humorous smile as she remembers it. ❛ one time he said the name of the girl he liked and i didn’t let that go for months. it was really amazing leverage. ❜ she’s still smiling as she rambles, tickled at the memory of jake mumbling ‘ yes, amanda ’ from his sleeping bag, in his own drool -- and his horrified face when she had poked him about it in the morning, laughing manically as he chased her around the cabin with threats. one of her finest accomplishments.
annie meets jack’s eyes, then, her own shining, basking in the light of a victorious reminisce. she takes a few steps forward, coming into the kitchen beside him, suddenly remembering that she’s in the kitchen of her fairly new boyfriend’s apartment, and not in a log cabin in the southern california mountains torturing her older brother.
❛ so no one’s ever told you you do it before, huh ? it’s cute. ❜
TOUGH SHELL
bruised knuckles. bloody noses. eye rolling. empty bottles. messy hair. sarcasm. lip biting. unwashed jeans. coffee breath. loud music. broken neon signs. chipped nail polish. leather jackets. always wearing headphones. swearing. sneaking out at 3 am. dark lipstick. frown creases. burning cigarettes. plaid shirts. under eye circles. dark colors.
SOFT INSIDE
honey tea. flower crowns. giggling. blowing kisses. dancing without worries. white lace. soft textures. fluffy throw pillows. using too many heart emojis. empathy. constant daydreaming. handwritten letters. fairy lights. bullet journals. designated driver. warm hugs. garden picnics. quiet. smile lines. optimism. flowy clothes. pastel colors.
TAGGED BY : @damnjuliet ( thank you !! ) TAGGING : @travn, @her-emotionalcompass, @sitched, @theyeardecembered, @asperad & anyone who wants to steal
Jack Traven + protecting Annie
@travn gets a one line dialogue starter !
❛ hey. you talk in your sleep. did you know ? ❜
travn:
@revokedlicense said: Why do I know the people that I ride the bus with better than you? — maybe on their first Actual Date after everything?? humans series two.
he huffs out a quiet laugh. tucked away in the back of a restaurant that teeters on the verge of nice enough, jack sits across from annie at a cloth-covered table, separated by glasses and plated entrees. he figured it would be nice to just sit down and have a conversation in a setting that didn’t demand urgency. some part of him — all of him, really — wishes this had been their beginning. that they had met in line for coffee or bumped into each other at the bank, that he had asked to borrow a pen or made small talk about the weather, worked his way up to asking her out for dinner. he probably would’ve tried too hard and made a fool out of himself, but he would’ve asked her out anyway, sheepish grin and all — because even in that hypothetical, he would’ve known this was something worth chancing.
maybe she would’ve let him keep the pen. (or better yet, maybe she would’ve kept it herself. after gliding her number across his palm in bright blue ink.)
the reality is jarring, her reminder. not that he hasn’t thought of it himself, in the days between the incident and now, in the weeks, but remembering feels strange every time: they’re practically strangers. in spite of the shared trauma and matching scars, there is still very little he knows about annie. he knows she’s better at handling a bus than he’ll ever be, and her voice gets a little too high pitched when she panics, and her first reaction to fear and overwhelming relief is smacking him square in the chest — but he doesn’t know other things, like her favorite color or her middle name or if she even has one.
and if he feels this way about her, a woman prone to endearing bouts of rambling, he can only imagine how she feels about him.
‘ you telling me you know ortiz better than you know me? ’ a brow quirks upwards and the corners of his lips follow, smile soon hidden behind glass as he takes a sip of his drink. still, he knows it’s very likely that she does know ortiz and sam and the rest of the regulars far better than she knows him. and he wants to remedy that, he wants to know her and be known in return, but he doesn’t know where to start. some amusement lingers in his gaze as he sets his glass down on the table, but at the center of it, there’s sincerity — especially as he asks:
‘ what do you wanna know? ’
annie bites the bottom of her lip, a nervous, humorous gesture, smiling through it. it’s the first time she’s smiled in five weeks, she thinks, oh boy. she leans back in her chair, relaxing her body. part of her can’t believe they’re here at last, and the other ten parts are screaming at her that it’s JUST NATURAL, JUST RIGHT, and to suck it up and ask the man across the table from her thirty more questions to find out exactly how much. because annie likes jack, she truly does like jack, and she’s excited about it -- and when she’s excited she’s quickly prone to exhaustive methods -- but she doesn’t know anything about him, either.
they’re not a conventional pair in the slightest. the two of them have been caught in such unusual circumstances that they’ve had to start from the top down, rather than the bottom up. annie doesn’t know jack’s address, his hobbies, how he feels about his mom. but she does know how he handles life and death situations, how he would risk his life to protect those he cares for ( and maybe even those he doesn’t because he’s just that damn altruistic ) , how when he’s angry it’s quiet, scary and unpredictable, but not off the rails and chaotic like when she is. the truth of the matter is she does know ortiz better than she knows jack. but maybe that was okay.
❛ ortiz has a big mouth. ❜ jack’s more of the STRONG SILENT TYPE. jeez, he was, wasn’t he -- jack’s exactly the type of guy annie always seems to be laughing about in those classic hollywood movies her mom just loves to eat up. a trope of a cop, only he’s real. and yet -- he’s not. and yet, here they are.
❛ i don’t know. i’ve never -- done this with a cop before. ❜ it’s all she can come up with at first. smooth. the last of that sentence almost trembles, gets away from her, on a breathy laugh, because annie always laughs when she doesn’t know what to say. done this. what was this ? she guesses she had wanted to say DATED, but they’re not exactly dating, she doesn’t think. they’re just on a date. and when she meets his dark - cop - eyes with her own, she catches herself smiling again, bursting at the seams to continue. widening her own, playfully albeit unconsciously, she grips her beer ( she’s ordered a corona light ) , and continues.
❛ when’s your birthday ? what’s your mom like ? those are things you’re supposed to know before kissing someone, right ? ❜ it’s a joke, of course. she’s known all sorts of types that kiss for less. but annie wants to know.
POP QUIZ, HOTSHOT.
saw a news story this morning about a cop dad who made little bows for his daughter to wear to school and that’s jack. thanks
@martyfly gets a starter !
annie is on her way to work, and she is, for once, early. alas, fifteen minutes on this bench solo, and she remembers exactly why she never takes the time to be here before her bus . . . she is bored. sitting still, ugh. watching sirens zoom by, passerby shuffling through, a couple of dogs and their humans . . . annie sits, ankles together in a slight criss-cross beneath the bench, waiting. waiting. long moments alone with her thoughts don’t always go so well; annie’s mind always moves quickly. she needs a distraction. smoking helps, somewhat, hence her habit . . . but she’s not about to light up now; she’s already had one on the way over, and her concept of time is pretty hazy at best. she’d probably need to stomp it out the moment it was lit. it’s all of that inner monologue that gets in the way of practical things, like concept of time and patience. too much inner monologue. talking usually does the trick, which is why friends are so great -- annie is friendly yet quiet at first glance -- it’s better if she has someone she knows well to talk to.
she’s not alone right now, though; that’s one half of her dilemma solved. the young guy seated beside her, however, is a stranger, and so annie is not as forthright. normally she’s not one to initiate conversation with someone she doesn’t know . . . but man, she needs a distraction. annie eyes the stranger, quickly, and then looks away again.
this guy seems okay. harmless. annie leans forward, looking at him a bit more, subtly. he’s got a cool shirt to boot. annie smiles, meeting his eyes quickly, and then looking away just as fast.
❛ nice shirt. ❜
it’s added after a moment, so he knows she’s not staring just to stare. she meets his eyes again after she says it, smiling. she is a little shy, but pleasant, and her voice nevertheless carries; she is not timid.
Speed (1994) dir. Jan de Bont
“I said whatever you do, just keep my dress down!” - Sandra Bullock
@asperad gets a starter !
annie really, really, needs this cigarette. she’s gone twenty four hours without one, and five and a half hours into her shift. seven tables have gone without tipping; two have been rude, one has been downright nasty and annie has a bleeding tongue because of it. she’s exploding inside, held back her bite, to incredible chagrin -- this is her last chance, she knows; annie’s on her last strike. and she can’t get fired, not when rent is due next week. UGH. not that working at MIKE’S SEAFOODS is the crowning achievement in her career . . . but, you know, she needs to pay her rent.
one cigarette, she promises herself. i just need one.
annie pulls the untouched, unopened FOR EMERGENCIES pack out of her university of arizona sweatshirt pocket. she’s leaning against the outside wall of the restaurant, on her rushed, five minute self - designated break. she knows she needs to be quick. she wanted to quit, and she will, but this is the lesser of two evils right now. it’s either smoke one cigarette and not scream, or kill a guy and lose her job. and her apartment. the apartment, really, is the main concern.
annie sifts through her belongings blindly, feeling for her lighter, but her mind’s not in it as she stares ahead, dully aware of passerby beneath the dry california sun. she’s thinking of her brother, momentarily, working his steady job for the senator of california’s office. annie sighs, fingering through crumbled papers, loose change, and one pack of gum, but no lighter. it’s no surprise she’s still the more disappointing of the two. i really need to get myself together.
UGH. and she’s just realized she’s left her lighter on her kitchen counter in her frenzy out of the door this morning. of course. of course she has.
there is a woman passing, she suddenly notices. annie is desperate . . . this stranger walks with a quiet, poised, confident aura, annie notices that immediately, too. she’s put together. she looks like the type that wouldn’t have forgotten a lighter at home.
❛ hi, i’m sorry -- do you have a light ? ❜
annie smiles at the woman, forced. her eyes beg. please, please say you have a light. i can’t lose my job.
@her-emotionalcompass gets a starter !
annie’s upset. fighting is always a doozy. she does it, though, often -- more often than she wants to, honest! people are just so often such jerks, she can’t help it. she can’t let them step all over her. they try to; oh man do they try to. annie wonders sometimes if it’s her size, or her look, or the fact that she apparently sounds like a wind - up toy when you get her excited; louder and quicker and never - ending monologue -- and that amuses people. that was according to mark. ASS.
blowing some air from her cheeks, she notices a man to her left at the bar; she’s not particularly paying much attention; her mind has difficulty focusing, especially after she’s just expelled high emotion. nevertheless, he is there, and she is not without propriety, so she addresses him before sitting.
❛ is this, uh, taken? ❜
@sitched gets a starter !
❛ shit. ❜ annie’s eyes dart around, her movements quick, succinct, and almost spastic, a dead giveaway that she is feeling nervous. she grips her watch, holding her wrist in a self-soothing attempt to center herself, and stands still. focus. annie searches for any information around her. she’s not a cop, of course -- far from it -- but she has been in enough strange situations to warrant concern for things out of place. a person in shades with their hands in their pockets, for example. a security camera. the strange knapsack, on the lobby bench, in immediate view. it’s all by its lonesome, black, fairly big. annie remembers that you’re supposed to notice things like that. see something, say something. or . . . whatever, along those lines.
annie glances around again for any sort of clue or immediate solution. there is not one. the only thing she sees is a young woman, standing, to her left. she smiles, a small, unsteady smile that breaks just moments in, cocking her head toward the other without looking away from the knapsack. ❛ i can’t be the only one who thinks that’s weird, right ? ❜ no, please, i can’t be. there’s a breathy, unsure laugh sifting off of the end of her question. annie has a difficult time telling, sometimes, if she is overreacting or not these days. intense experiences will do that, her counselor had said. maybe this young woman can tell her. maybe the bag is hers. or maybe, most likely of all, annie is really just looking for a camaraderie.
annie.
# 𝙾𝙵 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂: 1 / 2 / 3 + . ( she speaks a tiny bit of spanish, but is not fluent. )
𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴: high / average / deep 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚃: yes / no. ( kind of an odd question because everyone has an accent. she is native to the western USA, so? ) 𝙳𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙽𝙾𝚁: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other ( she’s shy at first depending on the person, but at the same time weirdly very active and social / approachable, which was why i chose both. ) 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed. 𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚂: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at distance.
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐓𝐘. 𝚅𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙱𝚄𝙻𝙰𝚁𝚈: ◼◻◻◻◻ 𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: ◼◼◼◻◻ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙲𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴: ◼◻◻◻◻
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘. 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈: ◼◼◼◻◻ 𝙲𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈: ◼◼◼◼◼
𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐘. arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.
𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓. christ on a bike. christ on a cracker. damn. goddamn. godsdamn. hell. holy shit. jesus. jesus christ. jesus h christ. jesus h. roosevelt christ. lord have mercy. jesus, mary and joseph. sweet jesus.
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 contractions or enunciation? straightforward or cryptic? jargon or toned? complexity or simplicity? finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? masculinity, neutrality, or femininity? formalities or abrasiveness? ( depends on context; she is able to be polite. ) praise or equivocation? frankness or lies? excessive or minimal hand gestures? name-calling or magnanimity? friendly or blunt nicknames?
𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.
𝙳𝙾 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. ( small ladie that yells when she speaks, always at 8/10 volume at least. )
𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁’𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never
𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.
𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.
𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚄𝚂𝙴 ‘𝚆𝙷𝙾𝙼’ 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴? yes / no / only ironically.
𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙰 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙳𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝚄𝚂𝙴? but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps
𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂? walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t. ( i’ve got GUM ON MY SEAT not an option? that’s criminal. )
𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂? titles / first names / surnames / full names / nicknames.
𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙾, 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺? upper / middle / lower.
𝙸𝙽 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚈 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝙺 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂? accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.
tagged by : @sinisteraugurey ( thank you so much <3 love how similar they are lmao. )
tagging : steal it from me!
requested by @ladyreapermc ♡
I love this photoshoot so much because it looks like an engagement announcement lmao.