#Sharp Shooting

[robiinurheart33]

CHAPTER 22 SPOILERS FOR THE NEON VOID‼️‼️

Haha wdym no I didn’t read the chapter almost one month after it came out wdym that’s crazy haha

ANYWAYS NEON VOID BRAINROT ANYONE?? As usual a magnificent read what can I say @sugarpasteltmnt is SO SO talented after I read this chapter I stared off into space for like a solid minute before laughing hysterically like Leo because MY GOD the adrenaline rush is so real. What compliment can I say that hasn’t been said about this fic. It gives me such goosebumps and the action sequences are just. Muah. Breathtaking. I cannot wait to read the next chapter and keep up the good work!! /lh /all pos

(Clicks for Palestine!!!)

[oliveoomph]

The Sapphic Gayze™

[diver5ion]

The males in my species are very similar.

[seyvia]

Cecelia Sharpe depute, Spring 198X's Vivienne Simwood's 'Parlay' collection.

[crimson-yogurt]

This is pretty interesting to me, beause for some reason I was under the assumption that July 21 being the twins' birthday was an invention of Stampede, but here it is in '98! (Don't remember the first 3 volumes of the manga mentioning it, unless I wasn't paying attention. Which means '98 would be the first mention of it!)

This also confirms that Trigun takes place in the year 131 (at least in '98s canon) and that Vash lies about being born in 104, thus claiming he's 27. I wonder if year 0 is when the Big Fall happened, thus actually making him around 132.

There's some other interesting stuff here, like his height being 7'20" (which sounds... pretty improbable. Maybe he's exaggerating on purpose?) and his blood type being listed as type O (the universal giver!). I wonder if Plants have the same blood types like humans do to begin with... maybe they're all type Os? Who knows. "Occupation: Love hunter" and "Notes: Pacifist" are pretty cute though.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 22 - Stoicism Breaks

I've been threatening to send Mariano to therapy so here we ARE! I reference a little RP I had with @comfy-whumpee that's been swirling in my brain ever since we did it c:<

TWs: self harm mention, suicide mention, anxiety mention, talk of a shooting, talk of captivity, this is real cathartic though I promise it's not bad

Ex-military, spent most of his twenties in foreign federal prison, history of anxiety, suicidal ideation, and self-harm. Stoic, highly traumatized, closed off, slow to open up. Hesitant to talk about intense experiences, needs reassurance. Overly concerned with others' needs.

Mary Barlowe looked over her notes before walking into the latest session with Mariano Cross. He wasn't her most difficult patient to talk to, not by a long shot. She never had to worry about calling security, or convincing him to leave when time was up. He was polite, punctual, and friendly.

But he was challenging in his own way.

He'd had a full decade of people telling him that he was an irredeemable monster, and he'd taken it all very seriously. Discussing anything heavier than everyday troubles was approached with the same caution that stray dogs approached an outstretched hand. He barely seemed to have even a basic connection to his own body or emotions, sounding detached whenever he spoke about them. They were things he needed help with, of course, but it was clear that there were things buried deeper than that.

The small, quick smile he gave her when she entered was a fantastic sign. "Good afternoon, Doctor Barlowe." He was already seated, back straight, both feet flat on the floor, and careful hands folded and resting on his leg.

"Good afternoon, Mariano." She returned the greeting easily, taking her own seat in the comfortable chair opposite his. "You mentioned wanting to talk about something difficult today, did something happen?" She knew the answer to that. He'd missed a few sessions due to being hospitalized from a robbery gone wrong.

He hesitated, dark eyes darting to the table between them. "Yes. I...there was something that happened." He seemed to close in on himself, just so, hands still clasped firmly together. She could feel the tension that crept into his voice. "But I understand if we can't."

There it was, the familiar beginning of withdrawal. "Why wouldn't we be able to talk about it?" She leaned forward, a small smile on her face. She kept her features soft, her posture relaxed. "You're paying to have a space to talk about the difficult things."

"I am, yes." He trailed off, not quite meeting her eye yet. "But it was...graphic. I don't want to overstep. I've accidentally done that before, and I...I don't want to find a new therapist. I like you."

"Oh?" Mary's voice softened. "Mariano, let me reassure you: You are not the first former prisoner I've worked with, or the first soldier. If I need a moment after hearing something then I'll let you know, but you're not going to destroy me by just talking.

"You deserve to feel safe enough to say what's on your mind. I'm sure it gets heavy holding it in, doesn't it?" She saw something in his jaw tense, the hold he had on his own hand growing tighter.

Mariano swallowed, nodding, eyes on the tissue box between them. "...It does. I have dreams about it sometimes."

"I'd imagine so." She said. "What happens in those dreams?"

When Mariano spoke again, his voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I can't call for help after I'm shot, and I wind up dying." He took a deeper breath, the sound just barely trembling. "It always feels...very realistic."

"Were you alone when it happened?" Mariano didn't move. His eyes never left the tissue box. "Mariano?" She had a feeling that he wasn't thinking about whether or not he needed a tissue.

He looked up at her, tension tight around his eyes, jaw set, and shoulders curled in on himself. "I...I don't want to hurt you."

"Have you hurt someone by talking about this before?" She spoke to him like he was backed into a corner, cowering away. He was, in a sense. It was like he was waiting for her to snap at him.

Mariano nodded.

"Can you tell me about it?"

Mariano hesitated, his grip shifting to his own elbows. He looked even smaller in the soft, pale green chair. "One of my friends asked me what happened, and why people weren't applying to the ad we put out for more managers. I said that I got shot during a robbery and almost died, and that it had gotten publicized--I don't think I went into detail, but he said that I...ambushed him?"

Mariano's breath caught. "I don't want to overstep again." He repeated. "He's a therapist and...I tried to keep things civilian friendly. It was why people hadn't been applying, and I tried to keep it brief, I...I don't really know what I did wrong. I didn't want to ask him to explain if I'd already hurt him."

A frown ghosted across Mary's face. "I see. Well, you don't have to worry about that, here. I have my own therapist, and I come to work expecting to hear about hard things."

She pushed the tissues closer, leaning forward to catch Mariano's eye. "And I think that I would've answered similarly, in your shoes. Maybe your friend was just having a hard time himself, and didn't communicate that well.

"But most people wouldn't consider that an ambush, just like you wouldn't consider it one if you asked a friend how they'd been and they said that they'd broken their leg recently, or lost a pet." She smiled softly when Mariano continued looking at her. "I think you'd just consider that surprising and unfortunate."

Mariano's jaw trembled. His eyes shone in the mid-afternoon light that streamed in through the window. "...I would."

"This hour is yours, Mariano. I'm not going to get upset at you." She plucked a few tissues and offered them over. "I've seen you for a while now. You don't have to be vigilant like that with me."

Mariano took them, holding them tight.

"Let me help you set some of that heavy stuff down." Mary offered. "You don't have to hold it all in on your own. You won't hurt me with it. It's safe."

Mariano's shoulders shuddered as he crumbled face-first into the tissues. A sob crawled out of him, escaping into his palms. It sounded agonized, like he'd been holding it in for months.

It was the most emotion he'd shown the entire time she'd known him. "It's okay to let people help you. You don't have to be a one man army anymore."

When Mariano had collected himself again, minutes later, Mary listened as he told her about the night that he almost died.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper @bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125

[deathbycoldopen]

The Archivist

Technically, this is art for my Good Place Au This Page Intentionally Left Blank, but if monster!Jon is your jam then far be it for me to stand in the way.

ID in Alt.

[salixtreeofficial]

"My Snowman & Me." Drawings done by Yoshi_Tsuno on TikTok!

[xysidhequeen]

Can't wait for Jason to use his guns to banish the Joker to the shadow realm where he belongs <3

God I love your Fanfiction <3

Danny, pulling out a Yu-Gi-Oh card that upon close inspection is a very well made fake trap card with a gun on it, called 'The Nightmare Gun': looks like it's time to send you to the shadow realm, Joker.

I honestly can't wait either. Sadly the Joker is going to take a few more parts to get to. Dick is really loving the attention he's currently getting and is loathe to let Danny and Jason leave.

Also since you sent me an ask anon I'll gift you with a snippet of one of my favorite parts of part 14 so far (it's not even half done and it's already so long. Help)

"Yeah, we did. Dude, Nightwing, Dick, my man, my friend, my once upon a time idol, my brother in spandex," Danny turned his attention to Dick, leaning forward with an earnestness on his face that Dick wasn't experienced enough in Danny's brand of dramatics to be wary of yet, "are you secretly a supervillain attempting to conquer the world with super-mold?" Danny asked with all the blunt honesty of a small child approaching a stranger in a grocery store to ask them why their cart was filled with only ice cream.

"I-what?!" Dick choked out, thrown off by both the question and the manner in which Danny asked it. Jason coughed to disguise a laugh, feeling the amusement rolling off Danny in waves.

"It's okay if you are. We'll accept you no matter what you choose to be. But we really might want to workshop your methods. Mold just isn't a good look, y'know? I've come to realize after several harrowing and near death experiences in the past few hours that it might be horrifyingly effective, but do you really want to be known as Mold Man?" Danny kept his sincere expression and tone, somehow shifting subtly towards the realm of concerned close friend staging an intervention.

"What is happening?!" Dick muttered, looking at Jason with a face that screamed 'help me'.

[satsuha]

i got so angry about the AB remaster i drew this

[service4cops]

Everything's a competition with these boys; who can shoot farthest, last longest, shoot the biggest, thickest, tastiest load. Fortunately, I was on my knees after their practice run to help them out. It was a tie, so they had to go again, until one came out on top.

(no, I'm not gonna tell you which)

[voguefashion]

Ethan Hawke photographed by Heather Hazzan for Sharp Magazine, 2022.

[masterwords]

7x24 - Run

[bumblingbabooshka]

The Doctor turning into women and having romantic dalliances with men is every kind of queer...to me.

[brown-little-robin]

*opens my locket* this is him: my son

[abutterflyobsession]

what’s trigun about? well, it’s a comedy, it’s a western, it’s scifi, a tragedy, horror, it’s about two insurance agents following around a guy classified as a natural disaster--oh, and how familiar are you with the bible?