𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 ..

[meremoments]

Ｍ Ｅ Ｒ Ｅ Ｍ Ｏ Ｍ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ Ｓ .ㅤㅤ ㅤan independent exploration of ㅤ loss, a mothers love/hate, inherited guilt, running away, growing out of your skin, horror as a coping mechanism, burying your past, making a name for yourself, killing your past self as a coping mechanism, biting the hands that feed and starved you, forgiving yourself for not being able to stop the worst thing thats happened to you, ㅤ + other topics. this blog is always ㅤㅤ21+ ONLY ㅤso please ㅤㅤMINORS and PERSONALS DNI . ㅤㅤㅤwritten by: aggie ( 34 she / her ) ㅤㅤALL GRAPHICS, THEME, and CARRD WERE CREATED BY THE AMAZINGLY TALENTEDㅤㅤ @villainsrph

𝘊 𝘈 𝘙 𝘙 𝘋 . ㅤ ㅤ𝘗 𝘙 𝘖 𝘔 𝘗 𝘛 𝘚 .ㅤ ㅤ𝘚 𝘗 𝘖 𝘛 𝘐 𝘍 𝘠 .ㅤㅤ 𝘖 𝘗 𝘌 𝘕 𝘚 .

[okoden]

❝ everyone, all the time. next question. ❞ he's doing everything in his power not to let the unease of the topic at hand sink in too deep. once it gets his hooks in him, it's damn near impossible to shake.

the thought of nightmarish creatures stalking him in the night is something he can live with. the presence of angels and possibly god, however? julian gets nauseous at the notion of ever getting near such things, real or not. call it religious trauma from his upbringing.

❝ i can drop you off, ❞ julian offers a little too quickly. the static is a low hum in his ears now, but it's still present. he doesn't want to be alone. ❝ or maybe you could come with me for a few days. i got some other shit to check out, sounds like a ghoul from what i heard so far. you can take field notes or whatever you nerds do. ❞

[meremoments]

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘖𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙 𝘚𝘛𝘜𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘋 𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘜𝘛𝘌. ㅤWhiskey gold eyes scrutinizing Julian suspiciously. Trying to puzzle out any ulterior motives or clue to why he was suddenly skittish. Slipping the object into her bag, hefting it onto her shoulder, Isla thought about both options. She rarely got to go out in the field. The Winchesters were too involved in one another to "babysit" and most of Bobby's contacts were either out of the game or dead but Julian was the last person she thought would invite her anywhere. She wasn't sure she'd be able to figure out where she'd seen the little totem he had found without the books and articles she already had, though.

"I've never seen a ghoul," she drawled thoughtfully, "might be worth putting up with you for awhile." Adjusting the strap on her slender shoulders, Isla nodded. "Okay. I'll go with you, but I'll need to pack a few things. Where were you headed anyway?"

[decoronation]

of course, he'd meant all of it. every single bad thing that has ever plagued isla, every terrible happening that has ever befallen her, she didn't deserve. if steve could take her pain away and transplant it into himself instead, he would.

❛ yeah, well. that's why i've got higher expectations for whatever family i end up making myself. ❜

it's taken a long time for steve to process this, the past year spent going over all of the instances where he's chosen to remain obedient to a cruel father and aloof mother even when it's to his detriment. facing true peril head-on has changed all that, and steve finds himself in turmoil; caught between not wanting to disappoint anyone and desiring a more purposeful path.

he wishes he felt deserving enough.

❛ i think if a doll started crying in the middle of the night i'd end up punting it out the window, ❜ steve laughs, picturing himself bolting upright in fear out of a dead sleep, ❛ then i'd drive by your house and stick it in your mailbox. adoption, though . . . i don't know. i've never thought about it. guess there are a lot of kids who need a home. ❜

the unexpected offer is met with a raised eyebrow, but it's not a no. he's heard of pacts like these, mostly a trope in films and the flowery books his mother keeps on her nightstand. steve smiles.

❛ yeah, alright. you've got yourself a deal. ❜

[meremoments]

𝘐𝘚𝘓𝘈 𝘎𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘋, 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓, 𝘈𝘚 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘈𝘚 𝘐𝘚𝘓𝘈 𝘉𝘓𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 𝘎𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘋. ㅤShe could see it. Steve bolting up in the cold sweat of panic finding the creepy ass dolls their health teacher used as babies and kicking it out the door like a football. It was a really funny visual but made a bit darker after considering why Steve would have such a knee-jerk reaction. Isla hadn't been there for the first appearance of the demogorgon but she did remember Dustin's weird dog demon thing and she had been in the Upside Down; the experience was certainly inspiring. In a Lovecraftian eldritch horror sense. Isla wouldn't mind never being that inspired again.

"Does that mean the first few nights of having a baby you'd be fighting the impulsive instinct of punting it?" she joked. It was entirely different, she knew, but talking about kids and family was hard at times and Steve was clearly trying to lighten the mood, maybe distract her a little from the memory of her loss. She appreciated it.

Steve Harrington wouldn't be a bad husband. Quite the opposite actually. If this pact did happen, she doubted he was taking it seriously even if she was, Isla thought she'd be very lucky. Anyone lucky enough to marry Steve would probably have the longest and happiest married life. Isla could only hope to be half as lucky.

"You'd be a really good husband," said Isla honestly. "Even if this is a joke I'd count myself very lucky to marry you." Her smile was as sincere as her words. She hoped he knew that. "You'll make an amazing dad, too. I know I've already said that but you're great with the kids we have now. Just because Nancy's stupid enough," she paused knowing Steve would take offense and quickly corrected, "Sorry not stupid but foolish enough to let you go doesn't mean anyone else would miss out on the chance to be with you. You're--," Isla tried to think of the right word. The right combination of them to try and express how highly regarded and dear to her Steve was. "You're incredibly kind, and smart even if your grades suck, and honestly Steve... I'd be perfectly thrilled to marry you." Isla's smile was softer but she was beaming. Even if her feeling weren't solely romantic she meant every word. She would be thrilled to marry Steve. While he was distracted, Isla stole a number of his fries before he could stop her.

[maureen2musings]

Autumn in the Scottish Highlands

ellisreed

[mournfulroses]

Catherynne M. Valente, from her novel titled "The Melancholy of a Mechagirl," originally published in 2023

[meremoments]

@imortallis

the  library  was  a  mix  of  suffocating  and  homely.  pages  upon  pages  of  worlds  and  lives.  but  no  one  will  ever  truly  know  the  author  or  the  muse.  these  pages  were  planned,  only  secrets  revealed  that  were  allowed  and  thoughts  only  given  because  they  wanted  them  revealed.  but  there  are  layers  within  every  person,  depths  that  not  even  a  lover  would  ever  get  to  see.  people  live  in  fear  of  what  they  are  or  what  they  could  be.  some  of  them  do  not  even  know  themselves. there's  no  a  person  walking  this  earth  that  has  ever  known  francesco  truly.  apart  from  his  very  first  wife,  but  the  version  of  francesco  that  married  her  has  be  lost  to  time  for  many  centuries  now.  each  new  version  of  himself  is  both  an  echo  of  the  last  and  the  death  of  the  former.  he  will  always  and  completely  live  within  the  unknown  to  this  world.  even  to  isla. ❝  you  wouldn't.  ❞  his  whisper  holds  slight  sarcasm  within  the  vowels  but  he'd  deny  it.  his  gaze  flicks  from  books  and  toward  the  other,  amber  hues  focusing  in.  ❝  but  these  books  only  tell  parts  of  the  stories  they  want  you  to  know.  they  never  tell  you  everything.  ❞  he  reaches  out,  fingers  brushing  along  spines.  ❝  they  always  keep  their  secrets  secret.  therefore  -  unknown.  ❞

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘘𝘜𝘐𝘌𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘖𝘞𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘚𝘓𝘈 𝘛𝘐𝘔𝘌 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘌. ㅤOr decide if she wanted to reply at all. Words held weight and it sounded like Isla and Francesco had different opinions on the definition of known. To some it was simply knowledge of another person, superficially, while Francesco took it to a much deeper space. From what he was saying, Isla took it to mean he saw being unknown or known relying heavily on those deeper, messier levels. And in that sense he was right, no one would be truly known if that required someone else to know every aching desire, every ugly, malformed secret, and that sounded like it'd be incredibly lonely. She didn't think anyone would be that forthcoming with everything.

"You make it sound like the only way someone can be known is if they skin themselves alive and let everyone poke around inside," said Isla. She watched the books Francesco's touch lingered absently wondering if they were favorites of his. If she lived or worked in a place like this she'd read everything twice and probably still never be satisfied. "If sharing all your secrets and keeping nothing for yourself is being unknown then yes, everyone is unknown but-- I think you can be known while keeping your secrets," Isla lifted the pages to her nose, eyes sparkling impishly as she gave a slow inhale, soaking up the smell of old ink and well worn paper. "Secrets are a way to ensure you don't lose yourself, once you give those away you can never get them back. But," she replaced the book her head tilting slightly in thought, "there are also those who don't even know themselves, those are the people who are utterly unknown."

[okoden]

is he really that transparent? julian vaguely recalls a time where he could put on a mask and pretend nothing affected him, even in the face of pure terror. has he become so dependent on everett that his outsides now reflect his insides? he looks away in shame.

❝ he was the only one who helped me when everything went wrong. i didn't have anyone. my parents are gone and i couldn't stay there, not with the basement being compromised. if he hadn't come along and taken me in, i'd be dead too. ❞

the words come out alongside shaky breaths, julian shaking his head slowly. given the degree of isolation he's experienced within the past few months alone, perhaps death would be a mercy. he hesitates, then slowly discloses more information than he should to a complete stranger.

he's on his own now, what does he have to lose?

❝ they had a radio . . . my parents. i don't know what happened to it. the day our house got broken into and they were killed, i bolted without anything. but they were waiting to hear from someone. someone that was gonna help us get to a safer place. ❞

[meremoments]

𝘗𝘌𝘖𝘗𝘓𝘌 𝘞𝘌𝘙𝘌 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎.ㅤ It only became more and more obvious as time passed with the infected; the more it spread the more people became rabid with or without the fungus. Desperation made beasts of men. Jules looked like a victim of both the infected and those who were left behind. At least he was opening up to her. Isla could tell he hadn't spent much time away from whoever Everett was.

"How long's it been?" she asked moving slowly and handing Jules some of the rabbit once it was roasted. Grabbing a large container of rain water, she offered him some hoping to continue earning his trust. "You look like its happened fairly recently," Isla tilted her head consideringly, "Did you live far?"

"A radio," repeated Isla dully, "Would you know where to find it? If we went back for it?" A radio in any condition would be a miracle even if this mysterious rescuer ended up being bullshit. There'd be transmissions of safer zones at the very least. Turning slightly towards Jules, Isla continued, "We can go together. Unless you wanted to find that Everett guy."

[ironcontract-deactivated2026030]

──   ⌯   ⁍   𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝.   (   @meremoments   +   isla   )  | | |   ⤷   :   “You're  lucky  you  got  away  with  only  a  scratch.”

𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦  𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭  𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞  𝐢𝐧  𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤.  if  luck  existed,  he’d  be  back  in  nebraska.  in  a  real  home  —  one  with  more  than  a  single  room  and  walls  that  didn’t  feel  like  they  were  closing  in.  if  he  were  lucky,  his  body  wouldn’t  be  a  patchwork  of  old  wounds,  making  it  a  struggle  just  to  move  some  mornings.  if  he  were  lucky,  his  mind  would  be  working  the  way  it  should.

so  no,  this  wasn’t  luck.  the  gash  across  his  shoulder  wasn’t  just  a  scratch  because  fortune  had  spared  him.  it  was  only  a  scratch  because  he’d  spent  years  sharpening  his  instincts,  forcing  himself  to  move  just  fast  enough,  just  early  enough,  to  get  away  before  the  worst  of  it  landed.  a  dry  grunt  escaped  him  as  he  tilted  his  head,  eyes  dragging  up  from  the  crimson  line.  ❝  almost  sounds  like  you’re  worried  about  me.  ❞

[meremoments]

𝘐𝘚𝘓𝘈 𝘍𝘐𝘟𝘌𝘋 𝘈𝘋𝘈𝘔 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘈 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘌. ㅤShe couldn't do much more at the moment focusing again on the injury she was tending to. In, out, loop, and tie. Isla wasn't the best at stitches but Adam didn't seem to mind so far. Military medics probably didn't do any better. Adam was quiet throughout the process; responding only with grunts and scoffs depending on what she was saying and how annoying he found them.

"Worrying about you and not wanting to explain a dead man at my house are two very different things," Isla said simply. Her caramel gold eyes lifted to Adam's, flat and dull without much light in them despite the overhead light she was using for his stitching. "But I am capable of some sympathy," Isla tied off the last stitch, "I know it's hard to believe but -- I'm not entirely heartless. Despite what you may have heard."

[lilysource]

Lily Collins for Lancome UK Ireland (x)

[querciawitch]

[mournfulroses]

Langston Hughes, from a poem titled "Minstrel Man," featured in The Selected Poems of Langston Hughes

[meremoments]

› › ›ㅤㅤㅤㅤIsla has a heart condition that resulted in an emergency heart procedure when she was twelve years-old. It put a permanent stop to her ballet dancing as well as various extra curricular activities and clubs Lauren was intending to put Isla through planning for, counting on, those to pad Isla's college applications. Not only was the surgery a major endeavor and couldn't return her heart function back to 100%, it left the young Isla with a nasty and angry scar down a majority of her sternum and had her in recovery for months.

Lauren saw this as yet another defect Isla had and often comments on how its ruined Isla's only prospects for marriage ( because she had so few beforehand ).

The condition is progressive and she has to attend regular tests and appointments to continue monitoring her heart's productivity and strength, this also results in Isla being fairly small and at times frail looking as well as being nearly perpetually chilled and cold to the touch. Otherwise she does fairly well in her day-to-day life and is managing better than her mother lets on.

[deviika]

Vincent Van Gogh // Clarice Lispector

[bookished]

( a collection of morally complex, emotionally tangled tropes where relationships clash with ethics, loyalty, or personal codes dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <3 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

"I’d burn the world for you, but you’re asking me to burn the wrong one."

"Don’t mistake my love for agreement. I will not stand beside you in this."

"You’re still my heart, but right now, you are also my enemy."

"I swore to protect you, not to help you ruin yourself."

"You disgust me, but no one deserves what they’re doing to you."

"If anyone’s going to destroy you, it’s me. Not them."

"I’d sooner spit in your face than call you friend, but I will not watch them gut you."

"Don’t read too much into this... I’m saving you because their cause is worse than yours."

"We’ve been enemies for years, but today… we fight the same battle."

"Our morals are oceans apart, but even I can see they’re drowning you."

"The side I’ve chosen would spit on me for helping you. I’ll do it anyway."

"You are everything I oppose, and yet—if I let them take you, I’ll be no better than you are."

"I’d forgive you for anything, but not for this."

"I’m not leaving because I stopped loving you. I’m leaving because I still do."

"My heart says stay. My conscience says run."

"If you keep down this road, I will have to stop you, and I will."

"You’re the one I want beside me, not the one who drags me into darkness."

"I’ll stand with you through storms, but not if you’re the storm itself."

"I’m bound to you by love, but unbound by your choices."

"I wish I could close my eyes to this, but I see too much."

"I hate you for what you did, but not for what they’re about to do to you."

"I’d sooner turn my back than help you, but I won’t let them break you."

"I loathe your decisions, but I despise their cruelty even more."

"You’ve made me angry, but seeing you hurt makes my blood boil."

"I want to forgive you, but I must punish you."

"My love for you doesn’t exempt you from consequences."

"You’re my weakness and my reckoning."

"If I shield you, I betray everything I stand for."

"You’re the reason I fight and the reason I hesitate."

"You are my enemy, but I cannot fight the part of me that loves you."

"Every battle with you is a battle with myself."

"I hate that I love you more than I fear you."

"I love you enough to be your greatest obstacle."

"Sometimes the hardest love is the one that says no."

"I’m not your ally here. I’m the voice you need to hear, even if you hate me for it."

"If letting you fall means saving you, then I’ll catch you—but only after the fall."

“Hating you doesn’t mean I want you harmed.”

"I wish you were better, but I refuse to let them make you worse."

"I hate what you’ve become, but I hate the thought of losing you even more."

"Your choices break my heart, but their punishment will break you."

"I hate you fiercely, but I’d fight anyone who tries to break you."

“I will stand against you—for your own good.”

[okoden]

he shifts his forearm to peek up at isla, the rest of his face obscured. she has a point, julian can't really expect any kind of exciting news from the frigid north if nothing ever happens there . . . though the more he thinks about it, the more he begins to suspect isla is holding something back.

the things she writes have to come from a place of deep self-reflection; imagination fed by experience. it's something julian can relate to. while he doesn't actually think isla has seen fairytale level horrors, he's certain the terror itself has roots in reality.

❝ well, see. you came back with some inspiration. ❞ julian uncovers his face and tilts his head to look at her, tone no longer snippy now that she's safe and sound. ❝ it'd be a heftier check if you'd banged one of those serial killers and lived to tell the tale, but i'm willing to accept it. are you at least planning to stay in town for longer than a week? ❞

[meremoments]

𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘗𝘐𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕? 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘚 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘈 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘋 𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘠, 𝘚𝘏𝘌 𝘎𝘜𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘌𝘋.ㅤ The frigid temperatures and eerie quiet of the Alaskan wilderness certainly painted an ideal setting for any monsters and creatures her mind could rouse from the deep. Alaska was rich in folklore, as well, as was anywhere. If she had been looking for inspiration it most certainly could've been found outside her little lone cabin deep in some tundra she could only reach by small plane. But her writing wasn't the purpose of her trip. Not the sole purpose although Julian was right, she had gotten some ideas. Nothing she was confident about, though.

Choosing to ignore the reason behind her sudden disappearance, Isla fixed Julian with a look. Not really any expression in particular but the stare he was receiving held a lukewarm annoyance.

"You can be incredibly exhausting, you know that, right?" inquired Isla monotonously. "And thank you, it's so kind of you to approve of my trip after I've returned from it. What a weight off my shoulders." Holding a bag of Julian's favorite take-away ( which was a feat of itself considering his particular palate ), Isla offered a truce as far as having left without word. ""I'm here for the foreseeable future. I was able to keep my flat so unfortunately for you I will be around. Within a cab ride away at all times." Isla set the food on Julian's breakfast bar looking at him, "Why were you so worried, anyway? You'll get wrinkles that way. Possibly start greying, too, That is a horror story all its own."

[meremoments]

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘙𝘈𝘙𝘠 𝘚𝘔𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙𝘍𝘜𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘖𝘍 𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘐𝘕𝘒 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘋𝘜𝘚𝘛𝘠 𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙. ㅤThere wasn't a better smell in existence if you asked Isla and if she could live in an old library, amid shelves and aisles full of the world's greatest treasures, she would happily do so. No internet needed. Hell, she'd give up electricity and read by candlelight if it meant never having to be without a book. An endless and undefeatable list of to-be-reads.

@imortallis's voice startled her, hand clutching her shirt at the chest with a sharp gasp before she huffed. "𝘚𝘖 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘐𝘝𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘜𝘕𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘕." Isla wasn't sure she agreed.

"I wouldn't say that," whispered Isla. "Within these books is someone's many someones. Millions of people split into fractions of a whole and bleeding ink on paper." It was beautiful. It was tragic. It was home. "I think, at least in books, living is very much finally being known."

[okoden]

❝ jesus christ on a crutch. fine. some witch bitch had it. how's that even make a difference, anyway? she's dead now. ❞ not by julian's hand, but dead nonetheless. the identity of the individual who'd done the killing for him remains a mystery, something the hunter isn't going to budge on even if isla presses him for more.

let's just say that someone had owed him a favor, and julian is grateful enough that he won't have to obsessively check his hotel rooms for hex bags as much as he has been the last few weeks.

❝ outcome would've been the same if i'd looted it from some crack whore, ❞ julian insists, though he knows he's talking out of his ass now. any excuse to get off the subject and onto something else. ❝ and who's to say i don't save the stupidest nicknames just for you? ❞

the mention of angels still has julian's skin tingling unpleasantly. there is always a certain ringing in his ears that comes along with remembering their mere existence — a strange static in the furthest recesses of his mind that consistently threatens to give him a migraine. he pushes the sensation back even now.

[meremoments]

"𝘠𝘖𝘜'𝘙𝘌 𝘐𝘕𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘉𝘓𝘠 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎, 𝘏𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘛𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛?"ㅤ If she was actually paying Julian any attention she would have been more poetic about it but instead she settled for the bare minimum to express her displeasure. All this time Stateside was beginning to lessen her reaction to the way Americans talked. Vulgarity wasn't unheard of in Europe, especially in certain parts of England, but not so much where Isla grew up.

Her eyes finally looked away from her new treasure to stare blankly at Julian, expression as flat as her tone, "Gee thanks." Hopefully he'd run out of English characters to call her. And hopefully it was soon.

"I know I've seen this somewhere," drawled Isla thoughtfully, fingertips tracing the etchings delicately. "A book or-- a museum, maybe." The memory was there, close enough to see its formation but too far to grasp and bring closer into the forefront of her mind. The name entangled with her tongue. It was there but it wasn't. "I need to take it with me back to my place," decided Isla readying to stand and secure the object in her rucksack with all her other precious items.