One of our planes was missing, two hours overdue
Yes, one of our planes was missing with all its gallant crew
The radio sets were hummin'
They waited for the word
Then a voice broke through that hummin' and this is what they heard
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
Though there's one motor gone
We can still carry on
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
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I need several hours of Quiet Time each day or i become the worst person alive
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AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.
When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.
Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.
(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)
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eleven is fascinating to me because he came right off the back of tens horrible traumatic breakdown after he lost everything and he immediately tried to establish himself as the opposite of that. he is funny and goofy and almost childlike, and he bulldozes on in his adventures with amy like nothing happened at all. but then something happens and his masks slips and it's like oh! the core of this man is still anger. he is so so angry all of the time and this façade is the only thing stopping him from being consumed by it. he isn't over any of it and he hasn't moved on. he is wearing a fez and laughing but under that all that exists is age old anger and grief and it is going to consume him
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imagine being a rando civilian ds9 resident trapped behind forcefields as the station slowly ratchets up to blow itself to pieces in civil defense and then you look up and see the local tailor powerwalking irritably towards ops while the lockdown parts for him like the red sea before moses. and he's presumably caught in a permanent eye roll over every ATTENTION BAJORAN WORKERS as he goes
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Reading the title of Nov. 4th's Re: Dracula entry, "My Jonathan," and thinking, oh that's sweet! it seems like it'll have a bit about how dear Jonathan is to Mina :)
But then coming to the passage where Mina says it, but it's Dracula's voice chillingly doubled underneath Mina's, so it's really:
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sylvia plath, todd anderson and virginia woolf (aka ACTUAL tortured poets) watching taylor “im breaking up with my boyfriend for his intense depression and blaming it on him, im dating a racist who enjoys watching woc being brutalized and harasses young woc artists, i sent my fans out on a hate train to attack a young woc actress for a line she had to say as part of her job to show how mentally ill her character was, im dating a maga supporter, i refuse to say anything about a current genocide despite being the most influential person in the world right now, i am a billionaire, i fly 13 minute flights and have the highest carbon emission of any celebrity, i am a known white feminist who only speaks about issues when it affects me and has constantly let my fans get away with extreme racism and even encouraged it by associating myself with known racists” swift call herself a tortured poet (her writing sounds like a bunch of thesaurus words slapped over gabba hanna and rupi kaur-esque poetry that was created purely as a trinket for an edgy pinterest board)
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