#repost later

[redactedrem]

Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.

Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.

He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.

He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.

Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"

"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.

[solrin]

lmao dlsite forced to reject use of Visa and Mastercard fuck this country I hate it so much

[verflares]

caution: dog will bite

[ghostember]

thought it’d be fun to compile all of my drawings of this character over the years

as a bonus here’s the very very first drawing i’ve done. ended up liking the design enough to run with it

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[iggypilled]

we win, they lose

[beetlejuce]

TJ MIKELOGAN's HALLOWEEN 2024 EVENT ↳ Day 1: Go-to Halloween movie

HOCUS POCUS (1993) - dir. Kenny Ortega

[iraprince]

walk with me

[imdoingjustgr8]

generic lowishbutkindadidtakeastupidamountof-effort meme bandwagoning post

[bixels]

Hey if you guys see my shit reposted on Tiktok, could you send me a link to it.

[paintpanic]

A new batch of drawing prompts for you to play with this coming October! Enjoy!

[soupysundae]

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

[bal0neysandwich]

ALL MY FELLAS ‼️‼️

[miwtual]

im so fucking tired of the disrespect gifmakers get on the gifmaker website

[wanderinggoddess]

Nine and Rose you will always be iconic <3

[petrichorium]

"was wondering where you slipped off to."

a month ago, you think, the sound of a man's voice in your kitchen well past midnight would have given you a heart attack. instead, much to your chagrin, shanks' low rasp—heavy with sleep—only has warmth curling in your chest. you purse your lips.

"’s my home. where would i go?"

shanks presses up against your back. only half an hour ago he’d done the same, tucked beneath the covers of your bed and curled around you so tightly it’d been a challenge to pry yourself free and slip away. you’d thrown on his shirt—plucked it from a corner of your room, a puddle of sea-softened cotton, not bothering to button it any further than you’d found it. he pinches at the sleeve and tugs it down, dragging the fabric down over your arm until it settles, buttoned opening only just covering the swell of your breast.

he’s gentle, touch slight as he brushes the knuckle of his index finger up your bicep. his lips are equally soft when he kisses at your shoulder. his hand finds your stomach, pressing into you, pressing you back into him, then sliding over and settling at the crook of your waist.

that mouth trails over your newly bared skin, up the slope of your collar to unabashedly bury his face into your neck and inhale, deep and slow.

"mm." the noise he lets out is something between a grunt and a sigh, low and rumbling against you. "dunno. you always find somewhere to hide away. what're you making? better be good, for my troubles."

"cookies," you say absent-mindedly, eyes trained on the orange glow of the stovetop light before you where two large brown cookies, still on their baking sheet, are cooling. then you blink. "your troubles?"

"woke up to an empty bed," he bemoans, "had to come down so many flights—"

"three. you think i don't know how tall my lighthouse is?"

"so energetic in the middle of the night. where do you even find the energy?"

you tut, reaching up with your hand to lace your fingers in his hair. almost immediately he turns his face into your palm, pressing a kiss there and rushing to leave more on the pads of your fingers, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of your inner wrist.

"same place you find the energy to complain, i suppose." your thumb twitches as he nips at the base. "i could kick you out, you know."

"how cruel." his hold around you tightens. "you know my back hurts when i sleep on your stoop."

your head snaps to the side, determined to hide the way your face burns at that straightforward confession. luckily shanks seems preoccupied continuing to kiss at that hand, and a second later the oven timer beeps, drawing the attention of both of you.

"looks good," he says, loosening his grip just enough to let you reach out for one of the cookies, now cool enough to pry from the baking sheet.

"does roux ever bake?"

shanks lets out a bark of laughter. "roux's more of a hearty stew kinda guy."

"ah. 'course." your words are mumbled, spoken through the gooey mass of molten chocolate you've just bitten into. still warm, the cookie begins to fall apart almost immediately, collapsing between your fingers—shanks leans in to catch the greater part of the mess with his tongue, laving it over your palm and then up the length of your fingers for any remaining trace of chocolate, careful to press the roughness of his scruffy cheek along your shoulder with each movement. it draws gooseflesh there, sends a shiver down your spine that pools warmly at the base of your stomach.

"i made two for a reason, you know." in the dark quiet of your kitchen at this hour, you keep your voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"mm." his hum is more chipper this time, muffled around your finger as he slowly draws back. "we can split that one too if you'd like."

but his arm tightens around you once more, and he drags his nose along the length of your neck, lips brushing over the skin. when he reaches the base he pauses, pressing a kiss there—then another to the side, and another, lingering and meticulous as he crosses your nape.

"or," he starts, as if breathing a secret, "we could go back to bed."

"sounds like you've made up your mind."

"come back to bed with me. you need rest."

your lips twitch, all too aware that his plans hardly involve rest—yet still you nod. "fine."

and as soon as the word falls from your lips he has you slung over his shoulder, already on his way towards the stairwell. you catch one final glance at the lonely leftover cookie; in the morning it'll be hard, cold, and far too much to eat alone, but shanks has the right idea, you suppose.

you'd much rather spend the rest of the night tangled in the sheets with him.