#i have way too many of these

[chappellrroan]

[fckwinnchrstopher]

*Eddie TRYING to help Chris with his math hw*

Eddie: Oh, that's a triangle. Next question.

Chris: No, you have to prove it.

Eddie: PROVE IT?! IT HAS THREE POINTY THINGS IT'S A TRIANGLE!

[alverrann]

Happy Miami Vice Day, folks! It's 2:15am where I'm at and so we're gonna start off strong with some good old-fashioned h/c.

I hope y'all enjoy it, cuz this is only the beginning, lol

---

“Tubbs!” Sonny’s shout alerted him only seconds before he felt the sting. It was a burning punch to the gut, and on pure instinct he shoved Harley away, stumbling backwards as the man came at him again. He tripped and fell, hitting his head on the way down and hurting his wrists as he caught himself.

There was a gunshot, and Harley fell, a scream echoing in the background with more gunfire. Years of experience had Tubbs dragging himself behind the garbage bin - likely where he'd hit his head - ducking down and hissing at the pain in his abdomen. He put a hand on it, and it came away bloody - he’d been stabbed.

The sounds of shooting had ended at some point, and Tubbs looked up when he realized that Sonny was calling his name. "Put your hand over it, Tubbs." Sonny's face was a pale ghost, flickering like a candle flame, and Tubbs looked down at the blood covering his hands. "C'mon, pal. Put your hand over it; put pressure on it." Pressure? Tubbs put his hand back over the sting, pressing down hesitantly. He hissed when the pain became worse, but Sonny spoke before he could do anything more. "That's it, just like that. Don't take your hand off."

The sting and the pain had both been so sudden, and it almost felt like he was seeing double; his vision was tunneling as a voice from farther down the alley called Harley's name. Some part of Tubbs was very annoyed, because this was one of his favorite shirts and suits, and here he was lying in a trash-strewn alleyway, bleeding all over it. A hysterical part of his mind was happy to remember that Sonny wasn’t wearing white today, at least …

Where was Sonny?

The report of a gun had Tubbs jerking back, huddling into the side of the dumpster that he was using for cover as he looked towards the source. It was his partner, of course, tucked neatly into a small alcove with his gun in hand.

Oh right. They were under attack. Harley was lying in the alleyway between them, blood pooling under his unmoving form, knife still in hand. Sonny must have shot him after he'd stabbed Tubbs, and the thought had him refocusing on his partner.

Sonny’s eyes – when he wasn’t peeking around his corner – were on Tubbs, and belatedly Rico realized that his gun was on the ground a few feet to his right. His mind felt like molasses, but he knew that if he could get it and give his partner covering fire, then they could get Ricket as well. Ricket, who had stopped yelling and shooting, for the moment.

Tubbs moved slowly, his right hand lifting from the sting in his abdomen to stretch towards his gun, grunting at the pain it caused. “Rico, keep your hand on it, buddy. Don’t worry about anything else – just keep the pressure on it.” Sonny's rough voice was pleading, and Tubbs reluctantly replaced his hand, instantly relieving the strain.

“You come out, cop, an’ I’ll blow you away!” Ricket began to shout again as Rico pushed down on the stinging pain. Sonny needed his help. But he was cold, and the sting was starting to throb.

“Your friend is dead, Ricket! It’s just you and us, and we ain’t lettin’ you go anywhere, man!” Sonny’s voice cracked a little as he shouted, and Tubbs stared down at his stomach. His right hand was over the top of the wound, but if he switched and put pressure with his left hand, then he could pick up his gun with the other one. With slow and deliberate movements, he began to do just that. “Tubbs, quit movin’!” Sonny’s hissed words were all but drowned out by Ricket's furious and desperate response.

“I know Harley got one of you pigs! You wanna go help ‘im, then let me go!”

Tubbs pushed down with his left hand, noticing that the blood seemed warmer, and the pain was getting worse. He slowly picked up his gun with his right hand, and Sonny yelled back,

“If my partner dies then you’ll be in a lot more trouble, pal!” He looked furious, his face still swimming in Tubbs' view. Tubbs kept his left hand on his abdomen as he slowly pushed his legs underneath him, forcing himself into a crouch despite the burst of pain that ensued. It brought him slightly out of his stupor, and he met Crockett’s glare with one of his own. Sonny’s mouth was opening, no doubt to tell him how stupid he was being, but Tubbs refused to hear it. He popped up from his crouch in a blaze of agony, shooting towards the other end of the alley blindly for a moment before going back down just as quickly. Ricket was spraying bullets in Tubbs' direction, and Sonny took the opportunity to peek out and take a couple of shots.

The alley fell silent.

Tubbs collapsed back down against the garbage can, almost choking as he struggled to breathe through the agony that seemed to envelop his stomach. A pattering of feet, and Sonny was there, his hand covering Tubbs’ and pushing down much, much harder than Tubbs had been. Tubbs gasped at the pain, and Sonny pulled him away from the garbage, leaning Tubbs back against his chest while removing his jacket. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” His harsh voice and words belied the gentleness with which he tucked the thin fabric around Tubbs, whose chuckle became a dry cough.

“Didn’t … see the knife.”

“Just hang tight, Rico. Ambulance is already on the way.” Sonny’s voice softened a little, and Tubbs realized that he was extremely tired.

“R- Ricket?”

“Dead.” Sonny didn’t sound nearly as apologetic as he might have, and for some reason it was funny to Tubbs. As soon as he laughed, however, he stopped with a groan.

“Harley too?”

“Yeah.” There was a long moment of silence, and then Sonny said, “You’re not fallin’ asleep on me now, are ya?”

“Shouldn’t’ve … made me so comfortable.” He breathed out, and Sonny was the one to laugh as sirens sounded in the distance, a short sound.

“Next time I’ll just leave ya lyin’ there, then.”

“Thanks.” Rico meant it.

“Anytime, pal.”

[acorviart]

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[ruushes]

sleeping arrangements (not sure tara would ever actually deign to sleep in the same 20ft radius as shovel but who can resist those big shiny insectoid black eyes 🥺)

plus:

[dilfslayer1080p]

"he died for our wins" - 2024, LIDL Oil paint on LIDL canvas

[findmeinthefallair]

It can't be overstated how powerful the catharsis is when a scene of a character connecting with their wounded inner child is done right. The key poses...the expressions...the timing...storytelling like this can help to provide some healing for so many people in the audience.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael learns about FNAF Movie Sparky...

[hollis-art]

911 you have the opportunity to do the funniest thing tomorrow

please. please please. please. you can even send eddie to super-hell, idc. do it. please.

close-ups of the doodles i particularly enjoy :)

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

his therapist woulda had a field day at their next appointment

[souphamsters]

I've been hopelessly fixated on drawing one (1) sweetheart butchfemme couple ... they're all I think abt ... HELP !!!

(silly lesbian ocs that I love , chae🍓and lucky🍋!!!)

[tobyisave]

hey why is this ipad acting so needy

[vriskan8or]

let her go

[daeyumi]

i love it when ppl put kirby into desserts

[tubbytarchia]

so ranchers huh

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

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