imacn - Tumblr blog

[imacn]

❝ relax-- i never actually do that, don’t pop a blood vessel. i hope you’re as easy to please as you are to piss off. ❞

“not the most inconsiderate, but oh my god, just throw it out.”

[imacn]

text 🌌 bombshell.

monica: LMAO BITCH I WISH I DID

monica: that'd be one handy dandy valentines day present to myself.

imaan: honestly they should give them out for free for those who are alone on valentines but ¯\_(ツ)_/

imaan: ok so what did u really buy

imaan: it better be as exciting as a vibrator

[imacn]

text 🌌 all contacts.

monica: i just bought myself a valentines day present

monica: guess what i bought

monica: you'll never guess:)

imaan: hm

imaan: a vibrator(:

[imacn]

❝ sounds easy enough. if it weren’t completely possible that leaving an empty milk carton in the fridge could mark me the world’s most inconsiderate asshole. ❞

“it’s really not that hard to stay on my good side, i swear. all you really have to do is not be the world’s most inconsiderate asshole. but apparently, for some people, that’s too much to ask.”

[imacn]

as tarik apologized, imaan felt a slight twinge of guilt. hesitantly, she patted the spot next to her on the bed, feeling slightly awkward to be having him looking down at her. she could tell he was having trouble; as much as she would have preferred to have shoved everything under the rug, he seemed to want to get stuff off his chest. old imaan probably wouldn’t have stayed around for it; but imaan figured that the least she could do was listen. ❝ i get that, tarik. i-- i know that was hard for you, but-- i thought you’d realize we weren’t that far off. you know? that we understood each other, at least a little. ❞ imaan looked down when he mentioned their relationship, his words causing her cheeks to warm slightly. ❝ i don’t know what i wanted you to do. be an equal part, maybe? the physical part was... fine, but the emotional part was so one-sided. ❞ imaan took a deep breath, pushing her hand through the roots of her long blonde waves. ❝ but it doesn’t really matter. it’s over with now, so. things would’ve ended either way. ❞

it was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that sort of screamed what the fuck and keep going all at the same time when he saw her open the door fully, allowing him to enter. he hadn’t yet seen her room, or at least not with the light on. it looked like a classic imaan room. “sorry to be interrupting your swim, ana…” he said the sentence wholeheartedly before finding a comfortable place to stand that wasn’t on any of her possessions strew throughout the room. “none of this is easy, so bear with me if i’m not just throwin’ out the funnest facts about my great and mighty fuckin’ life.” even when he was trying to be serious, he threw around curse words like they were candy falling from a broken pinata. “i don’t open up often because from when i was just a young boy, the only people ever around to converse with were one of the nannies, franco the chef, my dog henry, or any of the other hired help my dad had. i never got to come home and have my picture put on the fridge. any of that family shit, y’know? i never got that. and with you…i had something that i never got and it scared me, maani. what did you want me to do? this lifestyle i live – it’s not normal.” he paused a moment, shifting his eyes from her on the bed to the floor.

[imacn]

❝ --yikes. remind me to never get on your bad side. unless i wanna, you know, end up six feet under. ❞

“— next time someone leaves their goddamn clothes in the dryer for more than twenty-four hours, i’m taking them outside, i’m dousing them in gasoline, and i’m fucking torching them. consider this a public service announcement.” 

[imacn]

❝ don’t flatter yourself-- i mean, i’d eat a samoa off anyone’s big toe. died ? don’t be such a drama queen. but i can’t say that i would be surprised if those girls fought you and came out victorious.  ❞

“ a samoa off my big toe ? – honestly, that says it all. c’mon, what if they ended up wiggling away from the women’s hold to fight again and i’m in middle of the fight ? i would have died, imaan. ”

[imacn]

if it hadn’t been for imaan’s resolution to try and change her ways, she probably would’ve let him go-- sympathy wasn’t something that came naturally for her, and when it did, she had a hard time expressing it. nonetheless, she felt herself caving; not only was tarik acting completely sincere, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t still care for the boy, at least a little bit. she let out a quiet sigh and opened her door all the way. ❝ i was just gonna go for a swim. but it can wait. ❞ she gestured her chin inside, prompting him to join her as she closed the door behind them. imaan walked over to her bed and sat down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about her decor-- since she had no roommates, she’d had full liberty over the room, leaving her clothes and shoes strewn everywhere. at least she could count on nobody interrupting them; imaan glanced towards tarik, waiting for him to continue.

shit was the first word to pop into his still hazy brain when he found himself face-to-face with her once again. he wasn’t expecting her to come out in that dress which she always wore over that swim suit. “uh–” he returned the word to break the awkward lull that he was met with as he tried to come up with some excuse as to why he was there, instead he opted for the truth. for once. “look, i could stand here and lie to you, or i could stand here and grovel, but i want to stand here and tell you the truth.” his voice was a bit more clear, though his mind wasn’t. “i know you think i’m just talking to you because i’m fucked up or something right now, but honestly for one i’m not that fucked at this particular moment, you’ve seen me worse.” his mind blocked the memories of all the times she’d literally had to pick him off of the floor. “but, you seem busy and like you don’t want to hear it, so i’ll go or whatever.” he shoved his hand into the pocket of his grey sweatpants as he just stood there staring at her in the dress.

[imacn]

❝ i’d take crumbled cookies over no cookies, yeah. if you wouldn’t, you’re crazy. i’d eat a samoa off your big toe, thats how much i love them. you’re even crazier to leave a whole surplus of unprotected cookies untouched once the girls were dragged away. shame on you. ❞

“ hell no– that was the scene of crime. as soon as they got pulled away, everyone started to leave includin’ me. after all, would ye’ fancy some crumbled cookies ? ”

[imacn]

imaan let out a sigh once the door shut behind her, feeling a bit burnt out after their fight; living with tarik after their break-up wasn’t something she expected to be easy, but she certainly didn’t appreciate the myriad of feelings she was currently feeling. deciding taking a night swim might do something to clear her mind, the blonde quickly changed into her swimsuit and slipped a loose dress over her head. towel in hand, she was about to head down the hallway when she was met with tarik’s face the moment she opened the door.  ❝ uh-- can i help you? ❞ she asked, immediately crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at the raven-haired boy.

the house felt as though it was resting upon his tattooed body in those moments. click. he’d heard that sound before. imaan was closing her door. it was much like old times, too much maybe. the fighting, anyway. with the two of them it was like dealing with a manic person. the highs were so, so high like everest, and the lows were lower than the deepest depths of the sea. tarik couldn’t – no, wouldn’t stand for it to crumble around him again. everyone crumbled like the cliffs after too many waves hit, and he was sick of being a cliff or having people in his life be the waves. he pitter-pattered down the hall followed by the stairs which somehow seemed to meet his hasty, yet silent feet. there it was. her door. shut with all of it’s glory. he found himself beginning to pace outside of it like an impatient man in the emergency room awaiting a verdict.

[imacn]

❝ alright. don’t get your hopes up, though, ❞ imaan called back. ❝ i’d say my self-control is pretty high compared to some people i know. ❞ with that, imaan sauntered down the hallway and stairs until she made it to her room, clicking the door shut behind her.

“rest…” he repeated the word once with a matching tone. it felt familiar to hear her say those words, but he couldn’t grasp why it felt so calming yet made him so angry. “yeah, rest sure that’s what i need.” as she walked out the door, he called out one last thing to the slender blonde, “if you ever, y’know, need anything or things…guess y’know where i’m at.” he was referring to the drugs, but maybe he meant a little bit more than just the substances he knew all too well.

[imacn]

❝ alright, whatever you say. did you at least leave the scene with a box of cookies? or two-- one for me? ❞

“ hey, i wasn’t the only one– actually, i was just walking by when they started to swing my fists and there were older people standing around them and just watchin’ ‘em instead of stoppin’ the fight. no, unfortunately i didn’t because two elder women quickly pulled ‘em away from each other. ”

[imacn]

❝ oh. right. usually i tune out your instructions, sorry. ❞ imaan’s lips curled into a grin as she playfully pushed matteo’s arm. ❝ me ? a softie ? now i know you’re crazy. don’t let anyone in on your delusions, it’ll ruin my reputation. ❞

“people usually bleed after the fact. when you’re actually inking, there’s only the excess ink to wipe away - and even then, if an artist is doing his job right, most finished pieces don’t bleed, unless you’ve tattooed over a heavily veined area,” matteo chuckled, shaking his head in fond amusement. “i’ll have you know i am only a softie with you, thank you very much. and that’s only because you’re the exact same with me,”

[imacn]

❝ neither does mine. but i’d say you’re on the right track, mon. ❞ 

“ as you should. my respect doesn’t come easy. ”

[imacn]

imaan’s gaze flitted down to his grasp on her wrist. her body was still angled away from him, but she didn’t pull away. her eyes slowly trailed up to meet his bloodshot ones, but she could tell there was a glimmer of sincere remorse behind them. nonetheless, she stayed quiet until he finished speaking. finally, imaan pulled her arm away from him, as strangely familiar and comforting his skin felt against hers. ❝ i think i know everything i need to, thanks, ❞ imaan replied, her tone void of any inflection, whether it be warm or cold. she let out a brief sigh. ❝ you should get some rest, tarik, ❞ she mumbled, much like she used to when he was particularly far gone, and tore her eyes from his before walking out the door.

tarik watched as she began to walk away, it was like a tornado was moving him now. “ana…wait.” his grip was around her thin wrist, “i –” his voice was weak, much like his heart was in the moment, “i didn’t mean that thing that i just said…” he scratched the back of his head before continuing, “i didn’t mean to freeze you out when we were together, either. if, uhh, you’d like to know more or whatever, just you know where i am…just, i don’t know…consider it i guess.”

[imacn]

❝ --you’ve seen multiple? sounds like a rare species. it’s super hard to get over the urge of telling people exactly what’s wrong with their outfit-- but, uh, i guess people should just wear whatever they want. some of it is still tragic, though. ❞

If I see another leoperd skinned, pink fluro skinny jean motherfucker, it’s world war three. 

[imacn]

❝ oh, i never even thought about that! i have to say, though, there’s no way i’m agreeing to anything until danny devito signs on. ❞

“no way, we’re getting cold hard cash. and then we’re gonna go on to wildly successful careers. plus, you know, the movie adaptation starring us.”