stardustandsorrowpoetry

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The Phantom Tomorrow (BVB, 2021), in gifs

The Phantom Tomorrow

Scarlet Cross

Born Again

Blackbird

Spectres

Torch

The Wicked One

Shadows Rise

Fields of Bone and Crimson Skies are both bangers but alas, 10 picture limit

Kill the Hero

Fall Eternal

What's your favorite song on the album?

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Just watched Scream for the first time...

*SPOILER*

*ANOTHER SPOILER WARNING*

I can't decide if I'm attracted to Billy (an insane murderer) or if I ship him with Stu (another insane murderer), but both are bad. Both are very bad.

But like... Rent free

It's the fuckin Dimitri from Anastasia hair!

Please understand that I don't condone his actions, I don't agree with romanticizing killers as someone who considers myself an active true crime watcher, HOWEVER-

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I saw this posted on twt but haven’t seen it on tumblr yet:

Y’ALL.

QUANNAH CHASINGHORSE

UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT.

BTS:

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Guess what, y’all? I’M OFFICIALLY AN AUTHOR NOW!! My book Iron Widow has been published by Penguin Random House. It’s a sci-fi reimagining of China’s only female emperor, featuring giant mechas inspired by Chinese myth creatures and an M/M/F love triangle that resolves in ✨polyamory ✨. You can get it pretty much anywhere books are sold, though I recommend buying it from your local indie bookstore if you can. If you’re in the UK/Australia/New Zealand, it comes out on Oct 7 instead!

An audiobook is also available! (Get it from Libro.fm because they support indies!)

Translations into French, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, and Portuguese are to come.

(PS. I’m dressed as a huadan, a type of character in Peking opera traditionally played by men. If you enjoy that kind of demolishment of gender roles, Iron Widow has plenty!)

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“Costume designer Mayes C. Rubeo ensured the cast wardrobe enhanced the authenticity of each episode. […] As the series segued from black and white to color, Rubeo collaborated with the director of photography and production designer to ensure they achieved the perfect overall look. She describes the first three episodes as ‘particularly stunning,’ including a psychedelic 1970s print dress for Wanda in the third episode.”

Wanda Maximoff + outfits WANDAVISION (2021)

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Taylor Swift: I'm gonna drop clues that I'm re-releasing 1989

Fans: OK!

Taylor Swift: And then I'm gonna announce the 30 song re-release of Red!

Fans who were preparing for the hype of 1989: Oh my God we have to depress ourselves before November!

*a few months later*

Fans: What single is Taylor going to release first? Will it be Red? Will it be 22? What day will it be on?

Taylor: Lol have my version of Wildest Dreams

Fans who are in awe but also thrown for a loop: ... OK!?

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Stalking Jack the Ripper as Buzzfeed Unsolved

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Having just seen Shang-Chi (mild spoilers), I have two ships. Xialing and Katy is the first, me and Shang-Chi is the other.

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C/W: mental health

When you start relating not only to the protagonist with severe trauma and a savior complex, but ALSO their mentally ill love interest who uses humor to cope with their crippling depression...

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Not me already assigning books and characters to Halsey's new album

So far

The Tradition/Track 1: The women of Shadow and Bone (along with every other female protagonist who deserves better)

Bells of Santa Fe/Track 2: 100000% Emilia de Carlo from Kingdom of the Wicked

Lilith/Track 4: The Crows (I don't think I need to explain this one)

Darling/Track 7: Audrey Rose and Thomas from Stalking Jack the Ripper. My reasoning? This song makes me feel warm and cozy and they're my favorite couple ever

1121/Track 8: Also Audrey Rose and Thomas... This one feels like it belongs over a movie trailer for the third or fourth book

I may update this list later, I may be too lazy

Edit: The Lighthouse is definitely about sirens

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When you've been out camping and your friends don't hear from you for 24 hours

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Sunshine Goth Girl / Changing Like Seasons

A/N: I'm still new to this Tumblr thing, and I had to copy and paste off a failed post. Apologies for the line there! Sunshine Goth Girl - March of 2019 Yellow sweater. Black jeans. Dark, dyed hair tied back with a pastel blue scrunchie. Chipped nails. Bright eyes. Black flowered boots, bought from the Payless kids section. This is how you can find me on a good day. Changing Like Seasons - August of 2021 Content Warning: Discussions of mental health and body issues That yellow sweater has since been thrown out. It was stained with eyeliner, and reeked of heartbreak. But now I have about four new yellow sweaters, and each are making their own new memories Those black jeans don't fit anymore, but really they never suited me. Dear clothing companies: big girls don't just want skinny fit. I know, I know, it sells better when you make us hate our bodies... Politely, fuck yourselves. Still have that dyed hair, though now it's Ariel red to satisfy my inner child. And I still have that pastel blue scrunchie; somehow that survived everything. I gave up on my nails a long time ago. I compare my eyes to a piece of leather. They once were called shiny and perfect; now, I'm told they're warm and welcoming. Know how they got that way? Pain broke them in, like breaking in new boots, and now they're desperate to make sure everyone else feels safe and comfortable. I also still have those black flowered boots. How ridiculous I was then, defining a good day by what I wore at the time.

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3 AM

A/N: This is another poem from October of 2018. It's from the first time I started struggling with stress-based insomnia. It's short and questionably sweet, so please enjoy.

3 AM is the worst time to be awake. Instead of sleeping, you either are:

Needing to pee, needing to eat, needing to cry, or needing to go back to sleep.

Or more than one, maybe all.

3 AM is the worst time to be awake. You know your house isn’t haunted,

Yet those weird creaks and moans don’t sound quite right to half-asleep ears.

In the morning, you’ll know it’s just your dog.

3 AM is the worst time to be awake. Somehow everyone in the house wakes up,

And somehow you just know that you aren’t alone in your suffering.

But you still just wanna go back to sleep.

3 AM is the worst time to be awake. Your mental shields are put down from being asleep,

And you can’t stop thinking about everything you should’ve done or said.

In the morning, you’ll know you did everything you could.

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You Moved On

A/N: Ohhh boy this is a doozy! This is the finale in my first trilogy of poems, and also the first poem I've written in nearly two years. It's long, and was a bit brutal to write. Lots of emotions I haven't used in a while. I addressed this to my younger self, because it's what I think she needed to hear in her worst moments. I hope you enjoy.

Content warning: talks of mental health and abuse.

Kindergarten was a simpler time.

Love was expressed

with the trinkets that were passed

Between tiny, grubby hands.

You didn’t know, little one,

that you’d lose touch with

your first and longest love.

He moved to Spokane,

and you never saw him again.

But you left on good terms,

and you miss him

in the way a good memory feels.

You moved on.

Really, you never liked your second “love”.

I know he was appealing,

as the boy in your neighborhood

who you watched walk past your fence every day,

but you only really liked his curly hair

and dopey smile

because your old best friend liked him first.

You need to know that what happened

between two innocent kids

was not your fault.

You’re both happier now,

and that neighborhood boy

has faded into obscurity for you both.

You moved on.

That third one isn’t even worth remembering.

He threw his life away,

and you haven’t even heard from him

for probably four years now.

Little one, he was hardly worth your time,

and you are better off

struggling to remember his name.

Just remember the fact you survived middle school,

alright?

That is impressive.

You moved on,

and you don’t even hate him anymore.

There’s not that much to hate,

just like there’s not much to remember.

They say you never forget your first,

and that’s true for the first girl

who made you question your label.

You’re bisexual, little one, and that is

nothing to be ashamed of.

Do you understand me? Nothing.

You still miss her, sometimes…

You miss that simpler time where you woke up,

excited but terrified,

to see her again and feel those butterflies in your chest.

But she wasn’t right for you,

and you wouldn’t have been good together.

You parted on good terms too.

You moved on.

I remember loving that beautiful blonde boy.

How starry-eyed he made you,

how badly you wished for a moment alone.

You’ll never figure out,

if what you loved was really him,

or rather the idea of him.

I’d tell you that you moved on,

but that’d be only a half-truth.

His ocean eyes and crooked smile

still haunt your dreams,

and you still want to see him again.

But he’s fading, little one.

And it’s nice, having a memory of a love

drenched in summer sunshine.

Believe it or not, your boy of gold

was the second worst thing to happen to you.

He might’ve cared,

but it’s more likely he wanted you

only for your ability to love him despite his faults.

Yes, he chose her,

but be glad he did.

I don’t even want to imagine the shit he’d pull

If he had chosen you.

I know you want to hate him,

but you can’t.

Don’t make yourself bitter, little one;

you can forgive him without forgetting the pain he caused.

You’re starting to move on.

I want you to know,

what happened senior year

wasn’t your fault, little one.

I haven’t figured out how to forgive him

for what he put me through,

and I’m sorry I don’t know how to instruct you on moving on.

He tried to destroy your dreams,

he made you question your own sanity,

and you can’t tell anyone.

They all still love him.

But they don’t know how he hurt you,

little one,

so you can’t blame them.

They’ll learn his manipulations are all lies soon enough, I hope.

Let me tell you about the girl you’re falling for. 

Believe it or not, 

you don’t want anything more than a friendship with her yet.

Yes, you like her, 

but you’re still too afraid to consider loving her. 

But if you do fall in love, little one, 

she’s a good one. 

She cares, and she doesn’t ask you 

for anything in return. 

I hope you don’t fall, little one, because that means I’ve fallen too. 

But maybe it’s time to fall in love again.

Maybe this time, I'll stay.

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I Stay Reprised

A/N: This poem, the second part in the first trilogy I'm posting, is from October 2018 (though I don't know the specific date). It's from a time right before I lost hope for many, many months. It's still not perfect, don't get me wrong, but I hope you enjoy.

I thought this wasn’t

going to be a bullet.

I thought he was

going to be different.

Gold and green and blue eyes,

eyes that seemed safe,

tricked me into this...

Then fell for someone else.

He fell for someone else.

Sure, we’re still friends.

In fact, we’re really close!

He knows things

no one else can.

But then he seems

to just not care.

To him it seems,

I’m just a friend.

I’m nothing but a friend.

Perhaps there’s hope

in a future for us.

I know in reality,

he cares more than he should.

But for now, it’s

just going to hurt.

But what will I do?

I’ll stay.

Like every time, I’ll stay.