𝐚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈 .. 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡

“　writing　is　utter　solitude,　the　descent　into　the　cold　abyss　of　oneself.　”

[unden1ables]

#UNDEN1ABLES    ⁝      a     dependent     multi - muse     writing      blog     for     willowglen.     written     by     chanel.

⊱　　﹒　　𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒆　 .　.　.　29.　columnist　/　writer.

intro.　pinterest.　self - paras. connections.

[unden1ables]

📸 imani and noemi at their lil PAWTY

𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥  𝘢  📸  𝘵𝘰  𝘴𝘦𝘦  𝟥-𝟧  𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴  𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵  𝘮𝘺  𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦  𝘩𝘢𝘴/𝘩𝘢𝘴  𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯  𝘰𝘧  𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳  𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦  …  featuring  noemi.

bit her nail when she got the t*ts out after they popped opened the bottle of tequila. cherishes the moment only for the sole fact of seeing that smile that was on par with the sun. also got a video of noemi singing mc hammer's "u can't touch this" and doing the whole dance.

[unden1ables]

📸 brooks heheh

𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥  𝘢  📸  𝘵𝘰  𝘴𝘦𝘦  𝟥-𝟧  𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴  𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵  𝘮𝘺  𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦  𝘩𝘢𝘴/𝘩𝘢𝘴  𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯  𝘰𝘧  𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳  𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦  …  featuring  brooks.

bombastic  side  eye  to  this  folder  because  it's  explicit  and  has  more  incriminating  videos  of  him,  but  also  just  “homemade  videos”  they  have  together.

[unden1ables]

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday?

new  years  —  an  excuse  to  hear  her  parents  use  the  “new  year,  new  me!”  for  the  billionth  time  before  a  week  into  the  new  year,  they  are  just  the  same  as  they  were  before  and  when  imani  brings  it  up  they  say  that  was  the  champagne  talking.  but  she  likes  how  they  really  get  into  it,  decorating  letting  all  their  inhibitions  go.  also,  they  invite  all  her  relatives  down  from  kingston,  jamaica  and  it  turns  into  a  cookout  that  turns  into  a  new  years  bash.  she  reconnects  with  cousins,  aunts  and  uncles  that  blow  up  her  phone  and  facebook  but  they  never  seem  to  take  offense  to  her  introverted-isms.  they  all  still  party  like  it  was  the  last  time  they  got  together  and  it's  just  a  setting  where  she  feels  the  most  loved  and  comfortable,  especially  when  she  can  invite  her  friends.  they  exchange  “joke”  gifts  that  somehow  tie  into  a  “new”  thing  the  recipient  should  try.  before,  imani  never  knew  how  to  juggle  but  when  her  dad  gifted  her  some  balls  and  put  her  up  to  the  challenge,  that  was  basically  half  her  2023.  now?  she's  a  juggling  master.

[noshxmemusings]

Send a 📸 to see 3-5 pictures that my muse has/has taken of your muse(s)

[rasputinaillyanna]

[fawnvinyl]

                        after   thirty   minutes,   the   sound   of   three   soft   knocks   rap   at   imani's   door,   opening   it   to reveal   noemi   seductively   propped   against   her   doorway, tote in hand and hip   dramatically   popped   out.   "   excuse   me,   is   this   the   address   for   miss   imani   daye   ?   it   says   here   you   ordered   ...   oh   my   god,   a   hot   milf   ?   "   she   gasps,   lifting   to   bite   the   tip   of   her   finger   as   she   lets   herself   in,   sending   a   playful   slap   to   the   other   woman's   backside,   quick   to   cover   her   own   as   she   hurries   to   her   kitchen,   snickering.   "   naughty,   naughty   girl   !   get   your   sexy   ass   in   here   and   let's   make   these   drinks   ⸻   i   brought   raspberries   for   the   vodka.   "

&.              @unden1ables, imani's place @ 1:30 am.

[unden1ables]

she  was  bored  out  of  her  mind  —  terrorizing  her  ex  to  distract  from  texting  her  mother  back  about  flower  arrangements  and  churches  to  visit.  only  thing  that  had  her  smiling  from  ear  to  ear  was  the  back  and  forth  with  noemi,  laid  out  on  her  couch  and  kicking  her  feet  up  and  down  in  the  air  idly.  the  moment  she  hears  the  knocks,  she's  sitting  up  fast  and  going  to  the  front  door,  her  smile  only  growing  at  the  sight  and  theatrics. ❝  they  was  serving  long  island  iced  teas  at  your  cousin's  ?  ❞  she  asks  between  a  soft  chuckle,  letting  out  the  fakest  and  loudest  ow  when  her  butt  was  slapped,  shooting  daggers  at  her  as  she  covered  up  before  imani  could  get  her  lick  back.  ❝  hey  !  fuck  the  raspberries,  where's  that  hummus  you  were  raving  about  ?  ❞  she  calls  back,  closing  the  door  to  follow  the  woman  who  walked  around  like  she  owned  the  place.  imani  was  glad  that  raven  was  out  for  the  night,  but  she  would've  happily  invited  her  roomie  to  join  them.  takes  her  seat  on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  couch,  the  bottle  of  various  vodkas  sitting  on  the  table.  all  gifts  from  local  widows  that  wanted  to  show  their  support  to  imani's  mother,  but  the  woman  just  pawned  them  off  to  imani.  grabbing  one  by  the  tip  to  spin  it  and  show  off  the  label,  she  nodded  approvingly  at  how  it  was  apparently  strawberry  and  mango  flavored.

[mar7ini]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑:  ( @unden1ables  )  imani. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:  flo's

sliding back the writer's drink of choice across the table, dallas offers a smile as he shoves his flask back into his pocket. "still can't believe i can't order a jack and coke here. i mean, it's jack. coke. ice if you're feelin' fancy." he slurs, lifting his own glass sans straw to his lips. "i mean, it's two in the morning. these are prime alcohol hours."

[unden1ables]

manicured  hands  clap  together,  bowing  her  head  as  he  filled  her  arnold  palmer  with  whatever  was  in  his  flask.  a  late  night  for  the  two  of  them  to  wrap  it  up  at  flo's  was  always  a  highlight  to  imani,  greasy  food  and  pie  with  one  of  the  few  of  people  whose  company  she  enjoyed.  ❝  …  and  that  should  be  your  next  business  venture,  the  diner  where  you  can  order  a  jack  and  coke  and  nothing  else.  ❞  her  smile  stretches,  both  rows  of  teeth  visible  before  a  small  laugh  leaves  her.  brings  the  glass  up  to  her  lips  to  gingerly  sip  before  putting  it  back  down  with  an  audible  clap  to  the  table.  ❝  i  know  you've  been  to  new  york,  so  you're  feeling  nostalgic  as  fuck  to  that  diner  in  soho  that  served  alcohol,  right?  fuuuuck,  i  miss  new  york.  ❞  bottom  lip  juts  out,  closing  her  eyes  and  letting  out  the  most  pathetic  yet  theatrical  whimper.

[coyotetm]

he can tell he's gaining ground , her aversion to meeting his gaze pushing him onwards even more . he can get his pants dry cleaned , he doesn't even consider the way the tile digs into his knee caps , attention entirely focused on the girl in front of him . he doesn't even BOTHER replying to her comment about his current stature , the innocent expression slowly wiping away to once again reveal how OVER this whole ordeal he was . he forgot how insufferable he found her , cursing himself for even staying at the stupid event when he laid eyes on her . she likes that he's kneeling , begging , for her . and he's going to fight tooth and nail to go out HIS way . her quiet response , her sudden interest in the flickering light , tells him everything he needs to know . he needs to get that fucking phone , he thinks , racking his brain on how best to acquire it . hell , if he had to throw it in the toilet he'd do it . it was obvious SHE didn't care for him , so why should he return the favour ? he opens his mouth to continue his bombardment when she speaks first . the question catches him entirely off guard , brows knitting into a confused ( and , admittedly , concerned ) expression as his head tilts as if trying to understand if she really asked that . her second question has him shaking his head , " what ? " he asks incredulously . his mouth opens , hanging there for a moment as he connects her viciousness with her hurt . HIS hurt , that HE caused . " of course i did , " he's blinking in confusion , concern , tongue wetting lips as he thinks . " of course i liked you . you — you're — that wasn't obvious ? " he suddenly feels ashamed of how he's acted , pushing her buttons to such an extent that even THE imani had opened up . his arms drop from her sides , hands finding a knee to push himself back up onto his feet , taking several steps back to give her space . " imani . . . i'm sorry if i made you feel like i didn't care about you . " he thinks back to how poorly he treated her — lying , cheating . . . everything that classifieid him as a bad boyfriend . a bad PERSON . he runs a hand through disheveled hair , moving to lean against the door again , arms folding across his chest . " i'm sorry , really , for how i treated you . i don't know why i did that . it's fucked , i don't know . . . " his eyes , which had been on his shoes , find her once again , " please . PLEASE delete that picture . i know i fucked you over , but please . i've never told anyone about you , " the inference enough to illustrate what he means , " please . "

[unden1ables]

in  the  back  of  her  mind,  dulcet  voice  that  belonged  to  her  mother  was  imparting  famous  words  while  she  stared  at  the  male  before  her  …  when  someone  shows  you  who  they  are,  believe  them  the  first  time  …  staring  back  at  her  like  she'd  grown  two  heads  all  of  a  sudden.  she  doesn't  laugh,  brows  don't  wrinkle;  stoic  and  detached  to  the  core  to  strip  him  of  any  humanity  she  had  within  her.  in  her  eyes,  he's  the  weakest  between  them  right  now.  he  didn't  even  have  nubs  to  stand  on  if  she  decided  to  interrogate  him,  but  the  male  already  showed  her  he'd  do  anything  to  get  her  phone,  so  that  meant  he'd  also  say  anything.  the  apology  would've  made  her  scoff  any  other  moment,  but  right  now  she  was  keeping  a  straight  face  and  allowing  him  to  show  her  why  she  couldn't  agree  with  her  late  father  that  there  was  some  good  in  brooks.  her  chest  rises  and  falls,  each  new  inhale  into  an  exhale  felt  like  a  testament  to  her  restraint  to  not  cut  him  off  to  tell  him  about  himself.  ❝  okay,  ❞ low,  simple  reply  had  its  own  eerie  hold,  undistinguishable  on  if  all  was  suddenly  forgiven  or  if  he  had  just  put  the  nail  in  the  coffin  for  himself.

however,  he  should've  known  his  last  comment  only  had  dug  the  hole  deeper.  her  hand  moves,  slipping  her  phone  back  into  her  pocket  before  she  saunters  from  the  sink  to  brooks  leaning  against  the  locked  door.  ❝  i  need  you  to  get  the  fuck  out  of  my  way  now.  ❞  her  gaze  was  on  his  chest  before  she  spoke,  then  they  looked  up  at  him  emptily.  it  wouldn't  matter  if  he  snatched  her  phone  from  her  pocket,  she  was  too  lazy  to  have  a  face  id  set  up  but  obsessive  compulsive  enough  to  change  her  passcode  every  month  and  it  was  one  of  those  annoying  ones  where  you  had  to  draw  a  pattern.  ❝  half  the  town  has  seen  my  tits  and  cunt  when  i  was  going  to  uni  here  before  i  came  up  to  new  york,  ❞  she  informs  him  casually,  as  if  she  were  talking  about  the  weather  since  her  other  activity  would  be  a  pebble  in  comparison.  her  mother  told  her  about  how  the  judgmental  stares  had  come  back  since  imani  had  came  back  in  the  last  two  months  and  how  people  she  spoke  with  were  now  back  to  walking  on  eggshells  when  the  girl  was  brought  up.  ❝  but  i  promise  you  …  if  i  showed  you  off,  that  would  cause  a  bigger  splash.  ❞  she  takes  a  deep  breath,  brows  finally  knitting,  looking  at  him  as  if  he  was  back  on  his  knees  and  as  small  as  an  ant  to  her;  unimpressive.

[antystar]

Visit Original Link

[elitenetflixsource]

[filmgifs]

ANORA (2024) dir. Sean Baker

[turbiidus]

pls give me “we’re exes who ended on kind of shitty terms but are trying to ‘stay friends’ anyway, and we occasionally sabotage each other’s dates, get drunk and fuck, scream and fight until four in the morning and still refuse to acknowledge maybe we’re not quite as over each other as we like to think we are.”

[haleyatwell]

POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE (1990) dir. Mike Nichols

[coyotetm]

he has half a mind the simply snatch the phone from her hand , although her handing it over would be more satisfying , but it appears she has the same thought as his eyes track the device disappearing behind her back . he blinks slowly , eyes finding their way back to hers . her threat to scream further illucidates that he can't wrestle it from her hand , a fight he thinks he'd win . but that'd be a low blow even for HIM , and if anyone , ESPECIALLY the women in his life he loves , finds out about it ? death would be a kinder punishment . his lips twist tightly as she smiles ; he can't believe he'd ever found her enticing , HOT , even . he should have seen her for what she was : " you're a fucking sociopath . " his eyes squint in hatred hearing the nickname she calls him , one he absolutely DESPISES . he hates that nickname even more than the hates the idea of begging for anything , especially from imani . his pants are jacquemus , actually , but he's not dignifying her suggestion with a response . his lower lip is drawn between teeth as he considers what she's asking him to do , what his alternatives may be . but he's reminded how cutthroat she is , how many people she's devastated with a gleeful SMILE on her face as she does it , and he weighs her request . he feels like breaking a mirror , totalling a CAR in a drag race , and it's certain his rage is written all over his face . suddenly , and perhaps unexpectedly , he smiles . it's a toothless grin , lips spread tight across teeth , wrinkles forming by his eyes in earnest . " ahh . . . i see what this is about . " he acknowledges with a nod . his hands slowly find their way to grip either side of the sink behind her , essentially TRAPPING her between his arms , his frame lowering as he gets onto one knee , then two , without breaking eye contact . " is this what you want ? to see me on my knees for you ? " he asks , brows raising as an innocent , expectant look crosses his features . a beat passes before he continues . " so . . . now what ? " his eyes , having remained on hers to this point , slipping to her lips , her collarbones , lingering upon her chest , down the rest of her then blinking back up to meet hers . " hmm ? "

[unden1ables]

the  waiting  intensifies  the  thrill,  two  of  them  played  like  a  game  of  chess.  brown  hues  study  his  face,  looking  for  any  trace  of  muscle  spasm  or  frantic  run  of  pupils  that  indicate  he  was  turning  the  cogs  in  his  mind  for  his  next  move.  observant,  the  word  he  used  earlier  was  her  strongest  trait.  fleet-footed,  a  ghost  that  lurked  in  the  corners.  in  brooks  case,  she  spent  enough  time  with  him  to  watch  how  self-involved  he  was.  he  made  it  easy  to  read  him,  but  all  the  legacy  families  were  gossiped  about.  imani  could  weed  out  the  facts  from  the  slander.  ❝  don't  get  me  wet.  ❞  she  says  dryly  to  being  called  a  sociopath,  far  from  aroused  in  the  way  she  joked  about.  pink  lips  form  an  ‘  o,  ’  tongue  popping  back  and  forth  against  the  roof  of  her  mouth  to  imitate  the  sound  of  a  ticking  clock  as  he  just  stared  bitterly  at  her.

expression  doesn't  hold  as  he  shows  a  wicked  grin,  stiffening  now  yet  holding  his  gaze  because  she  wouldn't  back  down.  after  his  cutting  words,  there  was  only  one  thing  on  her  mind  that  she  wanted  him  to  confirm.  the  slow  descent,  flicking  her  gaze  to  watch  him  go  knee  for  knee,  fixed  her  eyes  there  for  a  full  minute  before  they  were  tilting  back  up  to  his  face.  adrenaline  now  turned  into  dread  that  twisted  her  stomach,  tightened  her  jaw  yet  made  her  soften  her  gaze  on  him.  soft  enough  that  somehow,  she  was  looking  at  him  but  also  looking  past  him  for  something  real  even  if  her  baser  instincts  told  her  this  was  him  being  real  her.  ❝  i  like  you  like  this  …  small.  ❞  her  voice  is  barely  above  a  whisper,  the  laugh  she  was  holding  back  came  out  in  a  short  burst,  still  stifled  but  a  snort  that  highlighted  just  how  humored  she  was  by  this  display  he  put  on  for  her.

all  for  a  picture.

❝  no.  ❞  finally  answers  him,  averting  her  gaze  and  letting  out  a  sigh,  the  buzz  from  from  light  nearest  them  holding  her  attention  briefly,  then  she  looks  back  to  him.  ❝  did  you  ever  love  me?  ❞  she  asks  confidently,  staring  him  right  in  those  pathetic,  big  and  droopy  eyes  of  his  with  the  dilated  pupils.  ❝  even  saying  love  feels  too  big,  so  how  about  …  did  you  even  like  me?  ❞

[ruinair]

" absolutely had a pearl handle and everything. " jaw remains set as if he is focused on his task. " i mean . . . we're in gun country can't believe i got caught off guard. you really get all sorts round here. i'm surprised we're not paintin' em. " the catty bitch thing is a low blow, so is the idea that he might exploit something like this to tinder for sex, then again, she was the one who brought up the word flaccid and been painting what she's been painting, so clearly her mind was already in the gutter to begin with, that's hardly her fault. " that makes a lot of sense, thanks for the assist. " devil's lettuce. people get more creative everyday. " it's called compassion for someone having a hard go of things. " lip twitches. he won't smile. he will not. " sounds like you're into some massive granny porn though boomerang, that's a hell of a visual. "

[unden1ables]

corners  of  lip  spread  wide,  even  if  by  just  a  smidgen  from  his  quip.  ❝  don't  jinx  that  ‘cause  it  actually  could  happen  tomorrow,  but  i  doubt  you’ll  be  here  for  it.  ❞  something  deep  within  her  told  her  this  was  a  one  and  done  thing  for  him  because  it  was  for  her.  nickname  makes  brown  eyes  roll,  but  the  gesture  lacks  any  ill.  ❝  if  i  give  you  five  bucks  to  kill  this  depraved  granny  bit,  will  you?  ❞  her  own  brush  strokes  to  work  in  details  now,  outlines  and  shadows,  giving  her  work  dimensions.  ❝  i  bet  i  can  guess  your  profession  in  under  five  guesses.  that's  way  more  fun.  ❞

[coyotetm]

" then WHY are you so riled up ?! " he exclaims in frustration . her claims over not caring about him made sense , of course . he couldn't say he cared much ( or at all ) about what she did these days . but tracing the line from him pushing her buttons to . . . THIS , yelling at each other in a public restroom , was proving to be impossible in his current state . he's rolling his eyes at her motion towards him , her twisting his words back on him . " just shut the fu — " he starts , suddenly caught off guard by a phone pointed his direction , his movement to quickly turn his back not quick enough . he doesn't even hear what she's saying . it's like standing in the eye of a hurricane : his mind goes quiet , racing a million miles a minute as he runs over the considerable ways that one photo could RUIN him , especially dangerous in her hands . he could be cut off from the sizeable family fortune , lose the future of his career ( even though everyone knew what those in his circle were up to , there was an unspoken agreement to NEVER capture it on record ) . . . he could lose everything . calmly , quietly , he puts the bag back in his pocket , taking a deep breath it and placing his palms together . " imani , " he states , his voice a fraction of the volume it was formerly , the low tone dripping in warning , " delete that picture . " he's not asking , he's telling , and the sobering anger in his posture is palpable . " please . " he crosses the room slowly , forgetting how he towered over the other , not realizing how menacing this must appear to look . " i'm not playing , " as if she could THINK he was . he holds out his hand , an unspoken request for her to place her phone upon his palm . he doesn't trust she'll REALLY do it unless he watches , and even then , the ramifications of the ' what ifs ' frighten him more than he'd let on .

[unden1ables]

it  was  like  a  switch  —  one  she'd  seen  before,  but  it  always  tickled  her  when  the  vexation  turned  into  begging,  that  then  turned  back  into  threatening  her.  not  outwardly,  because  that  would've  just  made  things  worse.  instead,  he  used  tactics  like  his  height  and  tone,  but  she  wasn't  some  spineless  woman  or  a  pet  that  could  be  whistled  at  to  behave.  so  she  stares  up  at  him,  dark  eyes  twinkling  underneath  the  restroom  fluorescents,  her  lips  parted  slightly  if  only  to  allow  the  corners  to  slowly  peel  into  an  amused  smirk.  the  grip  on  her  phone  tightening,  lowering  it  to  go  behind  her  back  and  out  of  his  reach.  adrenaline  was  her  drug  of  choice  and  nothing  excited  her  more  than  challenging  any  form  of  authority.  whether  it  was  her  military  father  growing  up,  professors,  bosses—her  megalomaniac  ex.  she  sizes  him  up  right  back,  taking  a  step  forward  and  his  hand  that  was  extended  to  her,  right  at  his  fingertips  were  just  inches  from  touching  her  chest.  ❝  touch  me,  i'll  scream.  ❞  she  says,  with  the  biggest  smile  that  shows  her  pearly  whites,  holding  back  from  a  laugh  that  is  trapped  in  her  throat  for  now.  ❝  you  can  beg  better  than  that,  brookie.  ❞  her  brows  knit  as  she  clicks  her  tongue  at  that,  another  needle  to  sink  into  his  skin.  ❝  you're  not?  ❞  wears  a  confused  expression  …  mocking,  mocking,  mocking.  ❝  are  those  pants  prada  or  bottega?  ❞  she  looks  down,  humming  thoughtlessly,  tilting  her  gaze  back  up  to  him.  ❝  maybe  you  can  have  the  phone  when  you  get  on  your  knees  for  me.  ❞