“i am a tsunami, my tears raise water levels high enough to flood. my pain and anger create rough waters, an undertow that sinks ships” // highly private and selective jane ives of ‘stranger things’. est. sept 2016 & rebooted feb 2018 - developed by lux {c}
“i am a tsunami, my tears raise water levels high enough to flood. my pain and anger create rough waters, an undertow that sinks ships” // highly private and selective jane ives of ‘stranger things’. est. sept 2016 & rebooted feb 2018 - developed by lux {c}
thinking of rebooting this blog tbh. i haven’t felt good about anything for awhile.
this blog is an archive, i’ve rebooted on a new blog for the sake of my comfort and wellbeing. hoping that a fresh blog will help me get back on to jane! :D
thinking of rebooting this blog tbh. i haven’t felt good about anything for awhile.
“it’s a monster. some kind of monster! some kind of monster right here in derry and it’s - it’s killing kids!”
/ highly selective richie tozier. penned by lux.
DERRY, MAINE - JULY 22, 1989 - MISSING GIRL!
JUNE ‘JUNEBUG’ KEATINGS, AGE 12. LAST KNOWN SIGHTING? UNKNOWN!
ind. sel. IT original character - written by lux.
me, doing one reply after not coming on here for what seems like 12 years: me: phew. that was a lot of work. time to log out again.
SHOULDERS dip. energy deflates. cannot help but also feel a little defeated. still nothing. why cannot he make her see she was not in the wrong? it was him. all him. had he not try to impose. had he tried to snap her back to reality, then maybe. just maybe… he would not have gotten hurt.
yes! he was the one that harm met in the matter…
but there was no blame. no pointing fingers. just a boy who realized what he did & was trying to set it right. cannot have hate herself for any bit longer. bill sighs. he’ll try once more. he scoots forward. just a tad. to minimize the distance. please he signs. you are not a monster.
it’s a reassurance that’s appreciated no matter how hesitant you are to take it. the guilt looming over your shoulders was near too inviting to take than the soft comfort of a friend. hurt him, hurt him, hurt him. it was something you hadn’t meant to do, never would have dreamed to hurt the boy that had saved your life not too long ago. as if you had intended to hurt something that darkness had already touched. shoulders slump, knees tugging tighter to your chest as arms envelope them, holding yourself together to avoid falling apart.
it had been time to admit defeat, hands raise to form symbols to express some form of apology and cease fire. it was time to find peace within mind and within this moment. im sorry. didn’t mean to hurt you.
‘FRAGMENT OF CHAOS: THOUGHTS AND HOPES FROM LOST PLACES AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN’ POETRY SENTENCE STARTERS // poetry collection by lux irvine available for purchase on amazon: here
Dave Harris, from “i haven’t killed my father yet” published in Winter Tangerine (via lifeinpoetry)
i’m going to come back here, i think. soon. i miss my home. i miss my safe spot. i miss my daughter. i’m gonna take some time this week to probably clean this blog up a bit for my comfort and then rock and role back to business.
golden child, lion boy; tell me what it’s like to conquer. fearless child, broken boy; tell me what it’s like to burn. (q.)
highly sel. canon div. stanley uris of stephen king’s ‘it’ as understood by lux
MONIKA.CHR DOES NOT EXIST !
ind . priv . highly sel . highly triggering .
" hold onto me, 'kay? we're almost there. "
your feet were tired. too long had you spent time running; running away from a life that you felt was no longer yours, a life that should never have belonged to you in the first place - or anyone for that matter. rain soaked clothes, all that remained of evidence of the place you had left - besides the number tattooed on the inside of your wrist. he was an unlikely saviour, one you would have thought the enemy, never mind a friend. but he had found you there, trucking through mud with heart thudding heaving against your chest as if you will your body to keep moving — to keep fighting. you were tired of running, bare feet ached - cuts and bruises coloured skin from rocky ground walked, splashes of mud coloured the skin of her legs.
hold onto me, ‘kay? we’re almost there. words full of safety - full of warmth. despite the growing fear in your gut that had once urged you to run - run from him, run from any man who dare approach. he’d crouched before you, words soft enough to urge you close, to urge you to trust. perhaps this would be the moment that would soon change your life. perhaps even for the better.
hesitation subsides, boy crouched before you - a foreign concept that would follow with words of instruction. it urged her forward, climbing onto his back and winding arms around his shoulders. immediately the warmth from his back urged a shiver from rain drenched skin. forgot what it was like to be warm, forgot what it meant to feel safe. you held tightly, allowing words to comfort her despite the strange meeting that had brought them together.
we’re almost there - almost there. she liked the sound of that. the concept that perhaps for once you were not alone, that perhaps there was safety in the exit of your former life.
it’s with a rise and fall of your chest that you utter one single word, clutching close to him in the mean time. uttering the word of something you had yet to learn the definition of - or at least the proper definition. perhaps you’d soon find out. a breath is taken, it’s soft but powerful - you wonder if he too will feel the same
“home?”
something sad for @vowet because i love u
i don’t know for how long. it’s not that i don’t have muse for jane - i do! it’s just every time i log into this blog or check on this fandom, that muse instantly evaporates. i’m tired. when i joined this fandom over a year ago after season one came out, this fandom was the nicest that i’ve ever been in. it was hella duplicate friendly, duplicates did twin au threads together and other cool shit. everyone was welcoming, always sending positivity and there were no cliques and rarely any issues with drama. people cared less about aesthetics and competing for the sake of likes and followers and more about the well-being of their fellow writing partners. and i’m seeing that sense of friendship and acceptance very quickly disappear after the release of season two and the revival of this fandom. i’m seeing more and more vaguing and hate anons on the daily, i’m seeing shame on blogs that don’t have the same photoshop abilities or aesthetic as others and honestly when did the quality of graphics directly impact the quality of a persons writing? it doesn’t. there are so many talented writers in this fandom and ever more lovelier people that i’ve met and people deserve to be treated with the same goddamn respect that you would want for yourself.
i’ll be back on this blog when i’m emotionally ready to be back here. i reblogged a blog role yesterday so you can find my other blogs. but i’ll link them here: @onlyvirgins , @sewerbound & @changedher as well as two sideblogs: @toldtheory and @torahread
thanks for your time. learn to be nicer to each other. stop vague posting and approach your shit like normal people by talking it out and not some playground whispering. i get that it’s rp but the shit you say to people here can impact someone’s mental health more than you’d expect. the world already has too many shitty people in it, try to make it a better place, yea?
thanks for coming to my ted talk.
tldr? don’t be a fucking asshole to people, susan. give respect & get respect.
