#chaotic writer energy

[tidesofsilence]

Countdown Update!

133 Days to Takeoff // 137 to Oxford // 138 to Ruth Wilson Theater Brilliance

Today was supposed to be the release of The Amber Spyglass (Ruth Wilson edition)—but the icon herself is busy being legendary. Filming Down Cemetery Road, preparing to emotionally decimate us all in A Moon for the Misbegotten, and, you know, just casually narrating the entire His Dark Materials trilogy like a queen.

We wait. With grace. And maybe a tiny bit of chaotic screaming.

New drop: April 15

🎧 And yes, I already have The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife ready!

Meanwhile…

What am I doing with myself until then?

Just casually writing a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic so feral that Janeway starts throwing punches and declaring children hers mid-battle. You know. Normal things.

I am not okay, and that’s exactly the point.

Also! The passport office spelled my name wrong.

So now the Government owes me a new passport and emotional compensation (ok just shipping fees).

*Edit* Passport is in hand with the correct spelling!

Can't mention Janeway and not add a GIF!

[escespace]

Morgana: Here. Drink water

Arthur: Is it poisoned?

Morgana: Why would I give you poison?

Arthur: Why would you give me water without asking for anything?

[lingering-zephyr]

I was studying for an exam, but my lecture notes simply said:

"Close your mouth. I can see the treacheries of your soul obscured behind that tongue."

Okay??

~zephyr.

[sugarcanesweetheart]

Me as a moodboard (pt1)

[altruists-reverie]

Sledgehammer

Give me a drink that loathes.

I want coffee that tastes like ash and reeks of acetone, Sparkling sludge from a can sporting a warning label, And the worst whiskey you can pour in a glass.

Let me know that something passed my lips.

[noobiestnoober]

Road Trip from Hell (Reader, Damon, Caroline, and Klaus)

A simple road trip to New Orleans turns into absolute chaos when Damon refuses to follow directions, Caroline tries to keep the peace, Klaus keeps making sarcastic comments from the back seat, and you’re the only one who actually knows how to read a map.

It was supposed to be a simple road trip. A straight shot from Mystic Falls to New Orleans. No detours. No distractions. No disasters. But that plan flew out the window the moment Damon decided he was the best person to drive.

"GPS is for amateurs," he smirked, ignoring the blinking route on the screen. "Real men trust their instincts."

"Real men also don’t get us lost in Georgia when we’re supposed to be going southwest," you muttered from the passenger seat, clutching the crumpled map like it was the only anchor to sanity in the car.

From the back seat, Klaus gave a low chuckle. "This is delightful. I haven’t been this entertained since the French Revolution."

Caroline, stuck in the middle between a murderous Original and a reckless Salvatore, was already on her third attempt to play peacemaker. "Can we please just follow the map? It’s literally printed with directions."

Damon waved her off. "It’s just a suggestion."

"It’s not a suggestion if it’s the only thing keeping us from ending up in a ditch, Damon," you snapped.

Another wrong turn. Another heavy sigh from you. Yet another overly amused remark from Klaus.

"If he takes one more exit labeled ‘Scenic Route,’ I may compel him to walk the rest of the way," Klaus drawled, resting his head back, utterly unfazed.

Caroline turned to you with pleading eyes. "Please tell me you know where we are."

You pointed at the map. "If we don’t die of dehydration or each other, we might make it to New Orleans by tomorrow morning."

Damon flashed a grin. "See? Adventure builds character."

Klaus hummed thoughtfully. "So does trauma."

The tension in the car thickened with every passing hour. Damon insisted on choosing every pit stop: a suspicious roadside diner with a neon sign that flickered like it was about to short-circuit, a gas station that looked abandoned until a toothless man emerged with a shotgun and a smile, and a bizarre detour into a county fair where Klaus disappeared for an hour and returned with cotton candy and blood on his sleeve.

"Don’t ask," he said with a wink when Caroline noticed. She turned a shade paler than usual, clutching her purse like a lifeline.

As if things weren’t already spiraling, the radio only played static unless Damon hit it just right—then it screeched into heavy metal or country breakup songs. There was no in-between. At some point, you gave up and opened the window, hoping the fresh air would stop the incoming headache.

Nightfall came, and still, Damon refused to admit he was lost. You were running out of snacks, patience, and phone battery. Caroline, bless her overly optimistic heart, kept trying to organize a new route using her nearly-dead phone, but Google Maps had apparently given up too.

"We passed that tree before," you said, your voice dry with exhaustion.

"You can’t prove that," Damon shot back, eyes on the road, smirk in place.

"It has a face painted on it. In red. I think we can prove it."

Klaus, clearly enjoying the spiral, chimed in again. "Perhaps it’s fate. Maybe we’re meant to perish together in the wilds of the South."

Caroline groaned. "Okay, enough! I’m putting my foot down. Damon, pull over. We’re switching drivers."

He raised an eyebrow but kept driving. You reached for the steering wheel.

"Touch that wheel, and I swear—"

"What? You’ll get us lost in another state?" you challenged.

The car swerved slightly, but Damon grudgingly pulled over. You threw open the door, walked around, and yanked open his.

"Move."

Klaus clapped slowly from the back seat. "Bravo. The only sensible one among us."

Once you slid behind the wheel, peace—tenuous as it was—settled over the car. Caroline exhaled like she hadn’t breathed in two hours. Damon sulked in the passenger seat like a grounded teenager.

"Now," you said, eyes on the road, hands on the wheel, "we follow the actual directions. No shortcuts. No scenic routes. No distractions."

"Where’s the fun in that?" Damon grumbled.

"In making it there alive," Caroline and you said in unison.

Klaus chuckled. "Well, this just got less fun. But considerably safer."

As you finally merged onto the correct highway, the city lights of New Orleans shimmering faintly in the distance, there was a collective sigh of relief. And then the tire pressure light came on.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered.

Klaus laughed. Damon cursed. Caroline reached for the last protein bar and broke it into three pieces.

"If the car explodes, I just want it on record that I voted for flying," Caroline mumbled.

Chaos, as always, wasn’t far behind.

[chaosu-no-hime]

Tired of being the only sane one in this asylum of fools, where sanity's a sin and idiocy reigns supreme🫸🏻😮‍💨🫷🏻

[divsere]

Cut From Two Cloths

I am cut from two cloths,

Stitched together with glass black thread.

One- raw virgin flesh, embroidered to it- a simple mind;

The other- dripping wet in blood red, painted with pain, tough love, and aggression.

It's serrated edges dig deep into my skin,

Into my intestines, into my bones;

They barely secure my skeleton-

Just like holding a cat by its whiskers,

Until they tear off- one by one.

The final fabric that became to be,

Covers my mind and bruised body;

Damp as it grew- mold and mildew-

They feed off of the rare bits of joy and peace.

The chronic fungi seems to be full now,

'Cause there's nothing left in the reserve now,

Nothing- but grief, rage, and lust.

The blood in my veins appear to have been wasted,

For fifteen years, or fifteen months (or fifteen days?),

'Cause they don't shine as Opal gems,

And flow as pitch black ink,

When I write anymore.

Nevermind however hard I try,

To rip the pieces up, to lacerate my own skin,

To gush out the family blood and dry my veins,

Something Evil in my head negates my dedication,

To play escape in a yellow, bright vacation.

'Cause one of the cloths was tore apart from my mother's saree;

And the other, from my father's kurta.

[alextlopez]

Imagine being able to introduce yourself with a pinterest board, like a character board. Cute and easier.

[fineline-b]

silver literally being in love with both flint and madi and billy noticing this and using it to destroy flint by manipulating silver into believing that flint will be the end of madi, to then see madi speaking like flint and looking up to him and not listening to silver, for silver to then believe he lost madi and blame himself but then find out lol she’s actually alive but to see flint tell him to his FACE that madi’s life is not more important than the war which triggers silver into a gay spiral cuz wtf do you mean her life isn’t more important you idiot? when i asked you if you would trade the war for thomas you didn’t answer me which means yes you absolutely would throw the war away for thomas so how dare you not love me enough to do it for me no, i think i’ve seen this film before and i didn’t like the ending, madi couldn’t say i’m her homeland anymore so what am i defending now? you were my crown now i’m in exile seeing you out. i think i’ve seen this film before.

[thewarmthofequallyreturnedlove]

the femme fatale

[downheartted]

actually excited to see my grumpy bitchy little 8th graders tomorrow 🤭🤭 I can see through you!! I will slowly gain your trust like ppl do for feral cats!!

[styck-figure]

It's so cool having everyone in the AVA/AVM fandom have a different voice for characters because they're all voiceless (if they have dialogue at all). But they all fit the character! I've never been like "He would NOT fucking say that" in this fandom honestly.

[adharagranley-writer]

if i had money i'd be the type of friend who randomly texts you from bali one day, disappears for a whole month and the next thing you know about me is that i was bitten by a snake in australia and then i'm traveling mongolia in a land rover.

[thechroniclesoforphic]

What is to cry? If not to suffer in exquisite ecstasy.

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjAv8WTC/

🥹🥹❤️

THAT MOMENT WAS SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUTE 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰