spidergrotto

[spidergrotto]

OH MY HOD NO WAY IS THAT WHO I YHINK IT IS

guys. guuuuys. it's back. r&r is back

[spidergrotto]

Hangin’ around

[spidergrotto]

MOLY MOLY HOLY MOLY

guys. guuuuys. it's back. r&r is back

[spidergrotto]

EVERYONE WISH @norahdevore a HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAY!!!

[spidergrotto]

The bus that’s supposed to take Peter + co to his decathalon event stops for food and then breaks down and will not start again.

The teachers are on the phone with the school, trying to figure out how to get a new bus or a repair. They let the kids know that they might not make it to the competition after all.

In the back of the bus, very quietly, Peter sends a text.

10 minutes later Iron man touches down in their parking lot. 15 minutes later, they’re back on the road and everyone is absolutely bewildered at the coincidence that Stark just so happened to hear about their predicament and care enough to do something about it.

Peter sends a thank you text.

Tony responds. “Now you have to win. Go get em kid.”

[spidergrotto]

“DC should let you write for them” DC should absolutely not let me write for them. I would shamelessly blow the entire budget on a poorly established Superbat plotline with every single Robin/Batkid ever somehow folded into the plot, sans any clue as to their ages or continuity and also Alfred would be insanely buff with 0 explanation. do u see the vision

[spidergrotto]

finally got my meds back from the doctors i feel so much better dude this past month has genuinely been hell

[spidergrotto]

genuinely the clutch spiderman has on me must be studied it doesn’t matter what or who or where if it’s spiderman i am invested.

hell yeah i want spiderman merchandise

[spidergrotto]

Fukuzawa's so fucking funny to me i cant even. He's insane. Raised up in a state sanctioned military school. Raised to master several martial arts styles and taught to master a sword since he was a kid. Didn’t go to war because he hated the army hierarchy. Stopped being a government’s catspaw because he realised liked killing people too much and Thats A Bit Fucked Up. Mind you, not that he was killing people, that he liked it. He can get so angry that people stop their cars on the road mid-movement on the road in horror at his rage. He's a freak magnet. He meets Ranpo and thinks of 50 different ways of killing him. His act of helping a 14 year old with no job, no home and no parents is to offer him assistance as a bodyguard. Free for once. He's insane. He then builds up an entire agency of gifted people and gets into several wars to assist this kid. He killed the Minister of Justice’s father. This is never addressed beyond the guy framing the Agency for mass murder (including his own). He likes cats. His main shipping partners are the maybe-pedophile main villan of the thing they're directly enemies with and also his also-main enemy ex-bff military dude with a time travelling stabby stick who kills his not-grandkids. His childhood friend of thirteen years started to hate him because Fukuzawa refused to fight a full on fucking military war with him. After refusing to fight a war he decided to skip a step and just become an assassin. He thinks you should’nt critisice other people’s food choices. He steals all of his other ex-husband’s kids in their divorce battles. He wears a haori, yukata, tabi and zori plus is a trained swordsman in modern day japan. His afformentioned ex-bff wants to make him into the leader of the world because he thinks Fukuzawa’s an uncorruptable person. Fukuzawa liked murdering people.

[spidergrotto]

oh you have done it again

omg yes like cowboy jason working around the ranch in a tank top or without it tbh, all sweaty, muscles flexing. what a sight for sore eyes😫😫 and the hat !!! he'd never take it off i bet

teehee 🤭

farmhand!jason todd x reader. reader owns a farm, jason helps. tw minor cut. lots of ogling 😋

****

"Horses need to be taken inside."

You look up from your seat on the porch swing. You've spent the better part of the hot afternoon in the shade, doing your taxes. Possibly the worst part of running a farm, besides all the excrement.

Jason's got a bridle over his shoulder and a pail of feed in the opposite hand. His neck gleams with sweat. His biceps bulge in his flexed arms. His hat sits low to block the unforgiving sun, so you can't see his eyes. You hope he can't see your wandering gaze.

"Oh, okay. Because of the heat?" This is your first summer on your farm. You're trying to learn everything you can for the future.

He nods. "Then I'll move the rest of the hay."

You make a mental note to watch when Jason starts tossing hay bales. Woof. "Okay. Thanks, Jason. I'm gonna make lunch soon."

He gives you a thumbs up and walks away. You do not (repeat, do not) stare at his broad backside as he walks away. That would be unprofessional and really, really stupid because Jason's the only good farmhand you've found in a sixty-mile radius, and it was sheer luck that brought him here. You can't afford to go searching for someone else because your little crush got out of hand.

It wasn't your dream to own a farm. Your uncle died suddenly in March, and no one else in the family wanted the land. You were convinced by a family friend that a farm was a great way to be self-sufficient. Start anew.

They weren't wrong; you just aren't much of a farmer. It's only because of Jason that you've made any profit at all, or you might've run the farm into the ground.

Jason Todd. You met him by accident in town when he was passing through one day. He told you he was looking for work in an accent that wasn't from anywhere around here. He refused to answer any further questions. That suited you fine in your desperation. You were too frazzled to think about the consequences of hiring a mysterious, handsome stranger. But it's been two months now, and you're regretting everything.

Oh, he's fantastic help. That's not the issue.

The issue is how gently Jason speaks to the cows and the horses, squeezing them affectionately when he thinks you're not watching. It's how he doesn't say much, ever, but he somehow knows when you need help with a chore or when you're daunted by the responsibility of a farm.

Wordlessly, he goes where you go, shouldering the majority of labor. Jason will let you do chores long enough so you learn how they're done, and then he'll take over, shooing you away in minimal words.

He's good at what he does; he's worked on plenty of farms and ranches before. It's entirely professional on his end. It's a little more than that for you.

It almost feels domestic some days: Jason tending to the livestock, you handling the business end of things. Jason offered to make deliveries for you, and you agreed, but he wouldn't accept extra payment for it. At first, you tried to pay him for everything, unsure of the proper etiquette. Jason had very firmly told you that that was a good way to be robbed blind.

Jesus, you're already housing me, feeding me, and paying me. This is my damn job, got it?

And did that deter you from developing a crush? No! If anything, it made it worse, working with a guy who insisted upon being honestly compensated. You overdo it now by making extra pies or chicken bakes for Jason to graze on throughout the day, especially if you're not home. He tells you it's too much, but he won't refuse the extra food.

Sometimes, it feels like he knows exactly what you're doing and why you're doing it. He looks at you with such a piercing gaze, you feel unraveled. He must know your feelings. You hope he doesn't. You hope he does.

You finish the last tax form, happy to be done. Then you stand and stretch before going inside to start lunch. On his days off, Jason cooks for both of you. But being that he takes on the chores and deliveries, you don't mind cooking most days. It's nice to cook for another person, especially one who appreciates your efforts.

Embarrassingly, you've fantasized about Jason coming into the kitchen and sipping kisses from your lips, squeezing your waist, telling you how good the food smells and how good you taste. Your spine goes straight when Jason passes by and gets close to you, so close that you can feel his earthy heat. But he never touches you. And he certainly doesn't tell you how you good you taste.

The curtains on the kitchen window are parted. You have a perfect view of Jason in his white undershirt and jeans and boots. He's stocky and taller than any man you've ever met, all muscle and fat, built like an ox. He told you once it's all he's good for, his strength. You don't know about that, but you can't deny that he's built for farm work.

He lifts the hay bales now, tossing them easily. You absently prepare chicken salad sandwiches while you watch Jason work. You feel like a pervert, gagging for a glimpse of your employee doing his job. You don't possess quite enough shame to stop, though.

Maybe you need to start dating again. Maybe this is just because you're lonely and Jason is the person you interact with the most. You should go to the events they host a few miles away for single people. You're sure you'd at least find someone to occupy your time for a little while.

Then again, you need to focus on the farm. You can't let yourself get distracted by some nobody. Jason cares about your farm's success, so he's okay. But you can't invite anyone else into your life right now.

Cosmic forces deal you your payback then. You're chopping celery for the salad and the knife slips. It's not a serious cut, but it's deep enough for blood to gush from your finger.

The porch door swings open then. Jason hangs up his hat on the hook. His eyes immediately fall onto your bleeding finger.

"It's just a little cut," you begin, but Jason ignores you. He herds you like a sheepdog into a seat at the kitchen table, and you obey, dazed by his bulk and easy command. No wonder the horses listen easily to him and not to you.

Jason washes his hands, then gets the first aid kid from under the sink. He's the one who insisted on you getting it. It's been used quite a bit, you being accident-prone, especially with unfamiliar equipment. The first time you needed it, Jason looked at you with a little smugness, proud that his suggestion came in handy. Your crush blossomed.

"I can do it," you say when Jason sits down next to you with the kit, but he wordlessly ignores you and you watch, almost through an out-of-body experience, as Jason takes your wrist and gently cleans your cut. It stings, and you hiss. He squeezes you in apology, then continues, sealing your cut with a band-aid.

Jason's hair is spiked with sweat. He's got a smear of dirt on his cheek. God, what you'd give to see him in the bath. He only takes five minute showers for as long as you've known him: quick and efficent.

As soon as your cut is tended to, Jason stands, the chair scraping back. He puts away the kit and continues where you left off with the celery, using a fresh knife and a fresh board. Luckily, no blood got on the food.

"I can keep cutting," you say. "Jason, you go wash up. I can do it."

Again, you're ignored, and it's not like you can muscle your way to the counter. So you huff and take the iced tea out of the fridge instead. It's not long before Jason's putting two plates down, yours with potato chips inside of the sandwich, just how you like it.

"You're so stubborn," you say, huffing without any heat.

"Takes one to know one," he says neutrally, filling the glasses with water first. He's always getting on you about staying hydrated. Caffeine is a diuretic, he reminds you.

You grumble. "Kicking me out of my own kitchen..."

But you can't shake the feeling of Jason's calloused hands on yours. His skin was sun-hot. How are you going to manage when he inevitably leaves for more work?

"Thank you for taking care of everything, though," you say, unable to stop your soft words. "And me."

"'S my job," he says, hunched over his sandwich, not looking at you.

"To take care of me?" you ask, face getting warmer.

"You're the boss. You're part of the farm."

"Oh."

God, you're in trouble.

[spidergrotto]

alright people where’s my bsd x batman cross overs

[spidergrotto]

i have no idea where my original post of this is if i ever made one. a timbit in a box of his kind.

[spidergrotto]

villian ready who is so angry all the time, who has been hurt and betrayed over and over again. they’ve become accustomed to violence and are comfortable with their anger, who lashes out whenever someone gets too close.

and then there’s jason todd who understands, jason who doesn’t let himself be pushed away— doesn’t let the reader go through whatever it is that happened alone, who understands anger.

she’d threaten him and he’d let her, she’d yell and scream and he doesn’t blink— he’s knows you don’t mean it, understands it’s all you know right now.

idk something abt him holding a angry reader while she lashes out, screams and cries n he’s just there holding her through it—hands carding through her hair, rocking them back and forth the same way he wanted others to do with him.

[spidergrotto]

I know Jason was dead-set on revenge and sticking it to Batman in UTRH but now I’m making myself sad thinking about a Jason who finally sees Bruce as Batman again after so many years, and he sees Nightwing and another Robin but he can’t hear them. For the first time ever, he’s not on their comm frequency. He’s locked out of Bruce’s quiet field orders and status checks. He can see Bruce but he can’t hear him. All he gets is the mask.

[spidergrotto]

[spidergrotto]

might be ooc but thinking abt bruce wayne disassociating *bad* and somehow hes gotten himself into another argument with jason and the rest of the team. would any of them notice or would it just keep going until alfred intervenes, who is following.

[spidergrotto]

i need active discord servers to join :( where my dc and marvel freaks at