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#david sinclair
sprinastan · 11 months
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THIS SHOW 😭
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shadowtoherlight · 10 months
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The fact that I watched an episode of Numb3rs today and only just actually *heard* David saying “You, my friend, are a prisoner of high standards and low social skills” to Colby 🥰🥰🥰
this show still has little gifts for me all these years later
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ANOTHER ONE
I’ll be honest I made this just so I could put Ian as the ‘Read 5:55 PM’ bit lmao
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cavegirl66 · 9 months
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°°° David Sinclair -°°° A Tale Of Raven 1973
Beautiful Canadian West Coast Folk-Rock-Psych
Enjoy 💖
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jt1674 · 5 months
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thelightfantastik · 1 year
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The tragedy of being obsessed with Numb3rs to the point of having multiple AU situations in your head that you primarily learnt digital art to realise but the Numb3rs fandom died a death a decade ago so there's nobody to appreciate your X-Men/Stranger Things "Charlie has powers" daydreams as intensely as you do
Anyway here's some art skills progression
08/2021 >> 04/2023
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Numb3rs 1×1, Part 17
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dinogal95 · 8 months
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Crossover prompt
Don and his team with Peralta and the B99 squad on a case
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sims-creations · 23 days
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[david] “look, it definitely honors me and you know how I feel about you.” [kissing her hand]
[agnes provocative] “do I now?”
[david] “I mean, don’t you? I’m crazy about you, agnes!”
[agnes chuckling] “and here I thought you were gonna give me some crap about not looking for something serious at the moment or whatever.”
[david] “I’m not actually - which doesn’t mean that I want things to change between us. in fact - hear me out, it is now that we can truly enjoy getting to know each other without actively hurting someone else, isn’t it?”
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judgeverse · 5 months
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Nikki convinces the men of the IHOF (International House Of Feds) that "man-dates" are now a thing, then dares Ian to make the most of it. In typical Edgerton fashion, he gives it a shot. (wordcount: 2687, rating: T)
“Yeah, why not?” Don puts his paperwork aside. It’s a good reason to ditch out of the office and keep avoiding all of the responsibilities weighing on him. Not his own actual responsibilities -- he’s good about those -- but the extra shit that keeps getting dropped on his desk by anybody who doesn’t want to pull their weight and is counting on the Eppes work ethic to pick up the slack. He’s sick and tired of it, actually, but hasn’t vented about it, because he’s not the guy that does that kind of thing. Ian is looking like a very welcoming alternative right now. “Where we going?” “Nice spot out by the ocean,” says Ian. “Oh, yeah,” says Nikki. “It’s where all the hardened criminals go surfing.” 
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sprinastan · 10 months
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Numb3rs watch: 5x16
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I love Colby so much 😭
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shadowtoherlight · 7 months
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If, when I die, God were to say to me “you may live one day in any universe humanity created, with the memories that you have now,” I would choose to be a student at CalSci, majoring in something that required me to be in professor Eppes’ class, and I would absorb everything he taught as best I could while sitting in that little classroom with the sunlight beaming through the windows, highlighting all the chalk dust that swirls in the air and makes the room smell like old knowledge. Then I would have lunch outside by the fountains, and maybe bump into Don with Colby or David, discussing a case with Charlie and Amita and Larry. I would not eavesdrop too hard but I would listen a little. I would grab a cup of coffee and wander the halls a bit, perhaps run into Alan, say hello, ask how the koi are doing. Then I would soak up a California sunset and do some homework around campus and simply exist in the silly little world that’s literally exactly the same as mine, but with a few people that I wish I could say hi to even just once.
🖤
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So, I made this thing and to me it really fits them lmao
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conshirtoe · 1 year
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David and Richard Sinclair in matching Camel shirts
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jt1674 · 5 months
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chicabae · 2 years
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Whumptober Day 1- Adverse Effects
Read on AO3  CB’s Whumptober Collection here
Numb3rs
Lancer dies before he pushes the final plunger, how does this change Colby's rescue?
Colby struggled against the bindings of the chair as Lancer stalked closer. He brandished the last syringe with a twisted smile. “Well Mr. Granger, seems like even your team is too late,” Lancer stabbed the needle in and began to press down. It felt like a stab wound when he heard a shot ring out. Colby’s eyes widened when Lancer fell to the floor, a bullet hole appearing in the center of his forehead.
“Colb, look at me, man!” Carter came around and began to shake him. Colby looked at him, disbelieving that recent events actually happened. His chest felt like a mountain was resting on top of it, each breath became more difficult than the last. He kept staring at the syringe still lodged in his chest, taunting him. The pressure on his chest began to increase, his breathing coming out in gasps. His nerves were on fire, when Dwayne got closer and grabbed his shoulder to steady him he let out a strangled cry and tried to shift away.
Two more shots rang out and Dwayne was suddenly on the floor, gazing up at him with vacant eyes. Colby felt tears well up in his eyes, falling down his face in rivers of pinpricks. A hand clapped onto his shoulder and Colby couldn’t stop the strained shout he let out, more tears falling as he panted for breath. Leaning his head back, his bleary eyes focused on the figure above him. David? No, David would never come after him. Maybe it’s the hallucinations kicking in. The hand left his shoulder as he closes his eyes and try to catch his breath. When he opens them again, the image of Don crouched in front of him, saying something he couldn’t understand. Then a burning sensation in his chest had him screaming. God, it hurt so bad. Fake-Don had the syringe in his hand, face pale, as he read what it contained.
The pressure suddenly released from his wrists. Looking down groggily, Fake-David was cutting his restraints free. He was a little too aggressive in cutting, he nicked Colby’s wrist, creating searing pain to race up his arm. With every shout, every gasp, every breath, Colby could feel his chest getting heavier, his lungs slowing down.
When Fake-Don and Fake-David lifted him and carried him to the deck, he didn’t have the breath to scream like he wanted to. His head rolled on his boneless neck, blinking in the sunlight before black spots began to cloud his vision. He could see Don and David, were they really here, or was his brain playing a cruel joke on him?, yelling above him, sometimes at him. The spots became bigger, his lungs stuttered with the lack of air. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, slowly encompassing him in darkness as he stopped breathing.
Colby flinched when he heard the screeching of machines. Blinking awake, the blinding white of the room made him quickly shut his eyes. Something was covering his face, and as he tried to paw it off, he was stopped. A hand grabs his wrist and pulls it back down, causing Colby to flinch at the touch. Opening his eyes again, he saw a shadow next to him. He struggled to focus, but the image of Don became clear next to him.
“Hey, buddy,” he whispered. “You’re finally awake.” Colby blinked and tried to move but was stopped again. “I can’t let you do that buddy,” Don spoke softly. “You nearly cut open your throat out last time, do you remember?”
Colby slowly shook his head, breathing becoming more difficult. The longer he was awake, the more he became aware of the bandages on his arms and throat.
“Do you remember anything?” Don asked again. Colby is silent and still, eyes locked on his fingers, crusted in blood, his blood. “The drugs Lancer gave you, they reacted to each other in ways the doctors couldn’t expect. For the first few hours, you had to be intubated just to breathe and when you were finally breathing again, you started to hallucinate.” Colby closed his eyes and nodded, he remembered what the drugs did.
Don shifted in his seat next to him. Colby gestured for him to continue. “You really hurt yourself, Colby. You’ll have some scarring.” He tried to raise his hand again to feel his neck. Don watched him carefully as his fingers skirted along the bandages. When Colby caught sight of his bloodied fingers again, he felt a sob escape him. Tears followed as his hands began to tremble and Don jumped in to hold him. Colby tucked his face into Don’s chest, shuddering breaths wracking his body.
“You’ll be okay Colby, I promise,” Don spoke into his agent's hair. When he felt Colby stop crying, he laid the exhausted man back against the pillows. He looked so worn, face drawn tight even in sleep.
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