#loopinator

[thapunqueen]

veronica you wouldve loved chappell roan believe me

[waywardmillennial]

[planerot]

Planes/Cars characters as silly Ao3 tags

[flying-machine07]

PPAA YouTube channel name was suggested by @cadfreakingspinner

[riverboatgambler]

looprange (and maru) real

[fluxydrawings]

False. A WRONG thing. A pseudo-being which exists as a mimic of something better

[snonkerdoodlefizzy221b]

Blade: Goodnight to the love of my life, Nick, and fuck the rest of y'all.

[1mnott0ne]

[snonkerdoodlewritesstuff]

Hey.

I'm not gonna ask how you are, because I know how you are. At least, I think I do. I don't know if I want myself to be true.

When you...left...I'm not sure whether left is the right word, actually. The horror of what happened...the horror of what you did to me...is something that can't be described with words. My soul was ripped apart. My heart shattered into a million pieces. My soul was wounded. My life ended when you went away from me.

And...even after all of that...I hope you're okay, my love. I really do. You...I don't think you could help it. If only we talked to each other. If only we worked things out before IT happened...maybe this wouldn't've been such a bad thing.

At any rate, I want to tell you something. Something that I never told you before, and now definitely won't ever get the chance to.

I loved you. When you would smile the way you did in the sun and we would sneak off together to do things we should'nt've been doing, I loved you. When you would marvel at little things like flowers and hummingbirds and nightingales, I loved you. I've always loved you, from the moment I met you.

I love you. I love you, even now that you're gone, even now that I'm nothing but a pile of broken pieces and memories. I love you, even though they all dragged you away from me, so that I could never embrace you again, and never have the chance to call you mind. Even after all that, I still love you.

I will always love you. Even though I'll never see you again--not for a long while, at the least--I will always love you. There doesn't seem to be anybody else for me, because my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you. It's always you, my love. Always you...

And lastly, I will miss you. I will miss the way you were a fucking diva all the time. I'll miss the way you were so rude to anyone who crossed you. I'll miss your smiles, the way you saw the world, the way...the way you looked when you were happy, or sad, or anything really. You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart.

This letter can be read from 3 perspectives:

Crowley to Aziraphale after Good Omens season 2.

John Watson to Sherlock Holmes after Sherlock season 2. 🧐

Blade Ranger to Nick Loopin' Lopez after the crash.

There are 3 more lines to add as well for each:

He let out a sigh laden with a thousand years' worth of exhaustion and

took a look around the bookshop--his bookshop now, that Aziraphale had found it in him to abandon it. He didn't know why he stayed, given the pain it caused him, but leaving would somehow make it worse. Sinking low into the cushions of the couch, he took a swig from his bottle.

sank back into the chair, facing the other one that should've been filled with a lanky man and his stupid curly hair and stupid angelic face. His vision blurred in and out of focus from the lack of sleep--he knew that if he gave in now he would only wake up to the words, "Goodbye, John" ringing in his ears.

sank low onto his landing gear, staring at the picture of his one-- and it seemed only--love. It didn't matter how many years it had been since the accident; a part Blade was and would always belong to Nick. Looking around at the scene of the base, he headed back to his cliff, parking a little ways from the edge to keep watch over the park for lightning storms. He fought fires now. He saved lives for real. After all, that's all he could do at this point, wasn't it?

So sorry if the ending seems rushed on any of them but constructive criticism would be appreciated! Thank you for reading this!

[zorionbbq]

my piece for BETWEEN HEISTS: A Lupin III Fan Collection!! :^]]

[kornblume814]

[varyaranger]

𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓹𝓲𝓷 𝓛𝓸𝓹𝓮𝔃 𝓐𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 🩶

📍pictures - Pinterest

[planerot]

Considering how popular Blade x Nick in this fandom, it's kinda surprising to me that Blade x Nick x Maru or even Blade x Maru seemingly hasn't ever been considered (at least anywhere I can find).

It's basically near universal fanon (that was formed from the implications of some canon scenes) that Maru was on the set of CHoPs and thus knew Blade and Nick, so it wouldn't even be that hard to justify.

Blade x Nick x Maru has AMAZING potential for angst. Like imagine being Blade or Maru, happily in a relationship with the two people you hold dearest and one of them fucking dies!! It's violent, and sudden, and you could do nothing but watch as he died. Blade, canonically, was the first to the scene and literally watched him die before his eyes. Then there's Maru, a mechanic, meant to be able to save lives, who physically couldn't get there in time, and, because he might've been the first physician on site, very well might've had to be the one to declare Nick's time of death. Imagine the fucking fallout of that and how you'd even cope with not only the death itself, but the fact you and your partner watched your other partner literally die. I can't even begin to imagine how irreversibly that would change the romantic relationship between Blade and Maru.

I love Maru having a platonic relationship with Blade and Nick but like there is SO much interesting stuff that could be done with them as a romantic pairing and I am shocked no one has jumped on it! Not even once!

[flying-machine07]

[tragedycoded]

heyyy, now that dmls is finally finished, I wanna ask: Was there anything you were forced to cut from it?? (And if so, can we see it??)

Leah! Hi! Thank you for the ask :> This turned into a giant post, I am so sorry LOL.

I'm going to show you something that was cut because I realized they were in a time loop midway through draft 4.

So ORIGINALLY, in March 1873, Sullivan and Hofer were afield (on a military operation that had them sleeping in bedrolls in the middle of nowhere.) Lon threw a note wrapped around a brick through Royston's window, only it wasn't Royston's window, it was his neighbor. Neighbor was like LON YOU FUCKING MORON and walked the note over to Royston, who came out on the balcony and provoked Lon into challenging him to a duel (we see him do this in January.)

I cut this chapter because I realized they were in a time loop as I was writing it.

The first half is whatever, it's Buck telling the story to Sullivan, who starts asking questions, and if I were going to show it to folks I'd have to run it by my roommate (my sensitivity reader) bc Buck is being mean/rude to Sullivan.

But yeah. Gott flat-out told Royston "Some of us remember" and I was like WHOA WAIT WHAT and just kept trucking. As one does. So this is alllllll just me letting them tell me/each other what the situation is.

It's not CANON because I haven't sorted out whose death would have caused a loop where they both were able to retain information without physical contact and also be cooperating. Possibly the second loop when Hofer was shot in the neck en route to Westerberg's cabin, but Sullivan still died in that run.

So I think of this as more like "Sullivan took over the Storyteller's little room outside spacetime and used it to conspire with Royston to get me to let him save Hofer." (Hofer died in draft 3.)

It will probably appear as a scene in the interactive novel, because the more I think about it the more I think they could have avoided doing this eight fucking times. If I get them cooperating sooner, then it doesn't make sense that Sullivan would be cross with Royston for so long that Royston has to follow him to Fort Cano. That's a Bad Ending. But we don't see why Royston always has to push Sullivan off the train unless they get a Bad Ending you can't just take my word for it so a;dfa;dkfa;dlsfk.

Anyway, I have for you today ~1100 words cut from draft 4. Sullivan starts out talking to Buck, who is relaying details of the fight, and he's had enough of Buck insinuating Royston has a deal with the Devil that lets him fight so well. (He doesn't. That's what 30+ years of honing a skill will do. That's why Buck is the best shit-talker in the midwest, he'd been doing it since the [redacted] Revolution.)

"Was it quick?" Sullivan interrupted.

He didn't want to hear anymore. Every other time he'd sat and had to hear it, he'd made himself listen all the way to the end, because he thought he might hear something different. Because he needed the confirmation that Royston was exactly the sort of man he thought he was. Every other time, he did not like the answer he received, or that he had to wait until Buck's story came to its final conclusion.

Sheriff Mason wasn't going to do anything different this time Buck told the story than he did last time. Lon Huston wasn't going to not die in the street after Arthur Royston sidestepped him, got behind him, and drew a line from the tip of his blade to Huston's heart. The man he loved wasn't going to find a way out of dealing with Lon Huston that didn't involve killing him.

Cole Sullivan loved a violent man. Cole Sullivan loved a man who figured, after the second one, that killing was getting pretty easy. After the third, he started getting paid for his talent.

Sullivan wasn't but eighteen when he killed his first man. Thought he was being transferred to the sharpshooter division but they'd snagged him for the cavalry instead, assigned him a black gelding named Coal and sent him to the French border. An Osage scout, couldn't have been any older than Sullivan was, and he'd hit him from 275 meters away without waiting to be ordered. If he'd waited any longer, the scout would have fired upon their point. The other men had drank to him that night, but he hadn't felt anything but numb, after killing his first man.

Couldn't figure how Royston felt amusement before killing a man, but Sullivan hadn't had to live Royston's life. Half of what he'd told him already, seeing how the men around him treated everything as an opportunity to bet money, he could only imagine what it had been like when he was wilder and less disciplined.

This time, Buck laughed and said, "Oh, yeah, Sergeant, it was quick."

"Took about ten seconds," Gregor added.

That was all he needed to hear. Sullivan couldn't listen to any more of this.

As the first sergeant marched out, Gregor sighed, "Don't worry, Buck, I'll listen to the rest of yer dang story."

#

The trooper went out the front door, because he was angry and hoping the walk from the bar to the boarding house's parlor would give him time to cool down. Wasn't wise, standing around long enough for Buck to say something insensitive, like he had last time.

The gambler went in the back door, because he always went in the back door, and because he didn't want anyone on the main street to see him entering the saloon. Was foolhardy enough, staying in the same area that the horse thieves knew him to operate.

Last time, Sullivan had stood in the parlor for nearly ten minutes before Gott found him, and offered to carry a note across the street to the saloon. Last time, Gott had let Sullivan into Royston's room to wait for him there. Royston had been offended, when she told him this. And she had told him he was going to lose a good man if he did not stop flaunting how little he cared.

Some of us remember, Mister Royston, she had told him, last time.

And that was when the gambler understood. They were doomed.

This time, they knew they would miss each other. They knew. When Royston realized he had missed Sullivan , he narrowed his eyes at Buck and ignored him. Chose, in front of Gregor and the dozen people who were in The Pig & Whistle on a Saturday evening in March, to ignore Buchanan God-damned Yeats. Rushed the length of the bar, out the front door, down the main street, to Hell with whoever saw him, and followed Sullivan into the boarding house.

This time, they had nothing left to argue about. Last time, they had had plenty to argue about. Royston had lied to him, last time.

When Royston burst into the parlor of The German House where he often found himself opening his eyes after dying, or thinking he was going to die, or screaming well on his way to dying, he found Sullivan standing at the window, hands folded behind his back, where Royston himself had often stood while waiting for him. The lightness of his footsteps told Sullivan who it was before he turned around, and when Sullivan did turn, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, showed his teeth, just a flash, through the salted red of his beard.

"Are you well?" Sullivan asked, this time.

"You're not angry?" Royston asked, this time.

"Why would I be angry with you​​?"

"… because you were last time we were here."

"How much can you remember?"

Royston is fraught as he pins himself in place, tapping the energy out of the toe of his loafer.

"Not enough," he said. "No names—"

"Which you don't retain to begin with," Sullivan shrugged.

"Hey!"

Sullivan cleared his throat and bit back a smile. Royston melted.

"Only a vague recollection of their fields of study… no notion of where they came from…"

"What was your associate's name?"

"Who?"

"The one who goes to… shit!"

"You can't remember anything either. We're doing something wrong."

"We remember enough, and you… you're listening to me, things are changing. We can…"

"I forget when you're not around, it's as if I have to start all over when I see you again."

"We have made progress, Arthur. I've made inquiries, and Erik is asking old classmates from the medical college if the names are at all familiar. You will hear from your associate, and we will find the right path forward from there. I recognize it is… novel, working in a group—"

"Excuse you, I have worked in a group before—"

"I apologize, Arthur, I was—"

"Making a jest?" Royston purred.

"Well... a remark that was not critical."

"If I were to provide you the opportunity to repeat the remark uninterrupted, would you take it?"

"Gladly."

Royston held out an arm to indicate Sullivan had the floor.

"I recognize it is novel for you to work in a group, but I strongly believe the three of us can stop whatever is going to happen from happening if we work together."

"Now… remind me, by three of us, are you referring to your surgeon friend, or to Molly?"

"Oh for the love of Pete, Arthur, Molly is my horse."

//

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[the-dye-stained-socialite]

so tragic that i can't have english words on while i'm writing becaus i just want to keep listening to certain songs on loop but alas!!!! they take up my english laguage processor space gbjbjvesdfnvksjdvxnkj