#badda bing

[jehanprouvaire]

eh uhh, you ever see a woman and- *trips and falls to my knees head smashing forward into the ground and breaking my nose there's blood everywhere I can hardly breath through it* ya know watta mean?

[i-am-the-doctor]

Here's Victor Van Guard! He's a demon that possesses my OC, Edward! he is the right-hand man in a whole demon mob and holy water gives him stomach cramps. also victor and edward are dating so yeet yeet

(note, the question mark lad is the Investigator, @snazzypurpleman 's OC.

[truegeorge]

Tell Her She's Dead

            On this night I was binge watching the Sopranos, a series about a crime family of the show’s title namesake. A lot of stereotypes of Italian Americans ties with organized crimes, eating pasta and spaghetti, even the strip club “Badda Bing,” had connotations of a typical name for an Italian American establishment. After watching a couple of episodes, I naturally entered a relaxed…

[sangredetoro]

A poem, short and sound:

Badda bing

Badda boom

[carnation-damnation]

You are not my enemy, I'll let you prove me wrong

[raineandsky]

#128

“How’d that thing at the weekend go?”

The hero laughs with visible discomfort. “Ah, pretty good. Wasn’t too bad.”

The other hero turns to look at him incredulously. “Wasn’t too bad? I thought your kids had some big parts in that play or something.”

“Oh, yeah, they did. You know how kids are, though. Acting clearly doesn’t run in the family.”

The last the other hero had heard, the hero was ecstatic to be going to this play. Now, he’s folding his clothes and shoving them into his locker like the weekend wasn’t anything special.

“You feeling alright?” the other hero asks shortly.

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know.” The other hero leans against their locker as the hero fiddles with the code on his. “I was expecting you to be more… excited. Has something happened?”

“No, nothing.”

“You can tell me.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you.” The hero gives up and slams the door on his locker. It doesn’t shut. “It was a nice weekend. The kids did their play and it was as entertaining as it was a bunch of eight year olds misremembering all their lines. That’s it.”

The other hero watches him as he turns back to the bench, sifting through his bag. They consider pushing it, but they don’t get the chance before the locker room door gets flung open.

“Sorry I’m late!” calls the voice in the doorway. “Traffic’s a nightmare. Anyways, I know you’re dying to hear how the kids did—god, they’re stars. I took a video, look—”

The hero cuts himself off when he finally meets the eye of… the hero, elbow deep in his bag with his locker swinging open behind him.

“Oh,” the hero says faintly from the doorway. “You’re me.”

The other hero rounds on the hero inside the locker room. “Who are you?”

The hero—although maybe not now—stares at them like he’s shocked before nodding to the hero in the doorway. “He’s the imposter.”

“He is actually trying to tell us about his kids,” the other hero says flatly. “I’m more inclined to believe he’s real.”

The hero glances between the hero in the doorway and the other hero next to him for a long second. “Look, I didn’t think I’d have to research his weekend plans, okay?”

That’s as good as a confession to the other hero. He’s already reaching for the handcuffs in his pocket—thank god he thought to take them out. “Okay. Well, you have the right to remain—”

He’s barely started before the hero bolts, the bag thrown mercilessly to the floor. The hero—the real hero—moves after him, the other hero close behind as their fake hero throws himself into the corner. He stumbles back against the wall, trapped.

“There’s no need to run,” the other hero drawls.

“I’m not running,” the fake hero say. He smiles, his back to the tile, like this was all part of the plan. “You can’t run through walls.”

And with that he leans back, the wall swallows him, and he disappears.

“He has my powers, too!” the hero cries, pointing rather uselessly at the now empty corner. “That’s not fair!”

The hero launches after him, straight through the wall. The other hero, cursed with the power of super strength, is left to take the long way round.

By the time the other hero gets there the hero already has the imposter in a tight hold. “What an idiot,” the hero says severely. “Let’s get him into a cell, huh? Whoever he is.”

“Almost had you, didn’t I?” the imposter says with a bright laugh. The other hero doesn’t like it. “Imagine what a league of us could do. Who would you trust? Who’s real? Who’s fake?”

“Oh, shut up,” the hero snaps.

“Stay on your toes. I’m far from the only one,” the imposter continues. His eyes bore straight through the other hero when he says, “Next time, it might be you.”

[cartoon-aragorn]

if you think about it, the feanorians are like an elvish mafia. oaths you can't get out of that cause you to do incredible violence? self-righteous overbearing patriarch? we're all family? mob shit.

[angrywarrior69]

via

[realreadysetrose]

Aradiabot wig didn’t come in time for this weekend 🥲 So I threw together a Jinx instead

[marierg]

Oh no this ain't that kinda situation where Sids gonna walk away....leave the gun take the cannoli

Let me know which you'd prefer. Personally, I'm a fan of the former.

[glamrockstarmaverick]

I was sick for a week, so I haven't been posting for a week or so.

And here I am, back again, (over?) compensating for my absence, with some old drawings made with Tomodachi Life and 3ds Camera.

(And I was also having fun with the "Collage" feature on Google Photos, to have more photos with less photos in one post.)

[beaniebea]

Pov something something ducktales but Alice in wonderland loll

[star-trekster]

Drawing for this episode bc yeah :)

Version without stars and ref of poster inspo

[mudwerks]

Out of Business

[faillen]

Fandom: บัานหลอน On Sale | Peaceful Property Series (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peach Santiphap Tantitaymitr/Home Saharat Vimarnsukmun Additional Tags: Episode Tag, Dreaming, Pining, Angst, oh how am i doing? good! thanks for asking (bad. i am doing. bad) Summary:

But in years upon years of having this dream, the nightmare has never changed. Not once.

Until.

The thing is, even after the whole thing blows up, even after Home loses them, loses everything, ruins the one good thing he had—Peach keeps fucking showing up.

He keeps fucking.

He keeps showing up.

Every time.

Or: Home dreams.

[chaos-whatever]

👁️ 👁️