#spiderhood

theyre consuming my thoughts your honor

SPIDERHOOD!!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

(I don’t know how to draw a velvet so i just experiment with it)

I think I made more memes this time for chapter 25 of “The Big Bad Red Riding Hood and the Friendly Neighborhood Spider”. I got a little overly excited making them, but I hope you all enjoy/enjoyed them.

Here are the memes:

[story collection] <-Hey, if you want more content, here's a compilation of all my content.

“Red Hood, Tangled Up” An Alfred-unauthorized story. Also unauthorized by basic good taste.

The Batcomputer hummed to life, flooding the holographic screen with such a ridiculous amount of data that not even Tim could fully decode it without a thermos of coffee and a couple of hours of creative insomnia. Bruce, standing like a gothic statue, stared at the monitor. Damian was in a corner, practicing his decapitation technique on a training dummy that had once been a scarecrow. Literally.

Dick, meanwhile, was half-sitting on the console, one leg dangling like a rebellious teenager, reading the report from Jason Todd’s last patrol.

“He was in Brooklyn last night,” Dick muttered, raising an eyebrow. “Since when does Jason patrol in another city without telling anyone?”

“Since he discovered the concept of ‘unsupervised vacation,’” Damian grumbled, eyes never leaving his training.

Bruce clenched his fists. “Red Hood hasn’t reported his position in eight hours. And his comm was shut off manually.”

Tim frowned at the screen. “We got an alert from New York’s traffic camera system… Someone left something on the roof of the Chrysler Building.”

Five minutes later, the Batwing was gliding over Manhattan like a shadow with a justice complex. When they landed on the rooftop, the scene that greeted them left them… not just perplexed. Perplexed was way too small a word. Absolutely nobody was ready for this.

There, hanging upside down from a metal structure, arms and legs firmly bound by thick, shiny webs, was Jason Todd, a.k.a. Red Hood. Shirtless. Pants only halfway up. Neck covered in purple hickeys and bite marks that looked straight out of a vampire movie with a decent lube budget.

A small note was taped to his chest, written in black marker:

“I liked you. Let’s do this again sometime. Call me ;) – 917-555-ARAC”

“What… the hell…?” Tim whispered, his voice dropping into something almost spiritual.

“Is he alive?” Damian asked, with a mix of concern and disgust.

Jason lifted his head, wearing a smile so satisfied it was probably illegal in at least three states. “Guys… I met Spider-Man.”

Dick burst out laughing so hard he had to fold over himself. “That’s how heroes introduce themselves in New York now?”

Still hanging, Jason let out a blissed-out sigh. “I don’t know if he saved me… or swept me off my feet. Maybe both.”

“Is that a webbing mark on your ass?” Tim asked, horrified.

“Best twenty minutes of my life,” Jason said, with a sinful little smirk.

Bruce simply turned around without a word.

“Are we leaving?” Dick asked, still grinning.

“Jason can find his own way home,” Bruce said.

“Without pants?” Damian asked, rolling his eyes.

“Especially without pants. So he’ll learn.”

“Spider-Man: Busy” Chapter 2 of the spider-bat chronicles nobody asked for, but everyone needed.

Avengers Tower was buzzing. Screens lit up, combat-simulation holograms everywhere, and Steve Rogers handing out training plans like gym flyers.

“We need Parker in this drill,” Steve said, in his classic high-school-quarterback voice. “Speed, reflexes, brains. He’s ideal for this scenario.”

But Spider-Man wasn’t there. He wasn’t answering his comm, his messages, or even the automatic “your internet bill is overdue” reminders Stark had set up just to mess with him.

Tony, arms crossed, frowned behind his glasses. “Where’s the spider-kid? Hanging upside down in the library again?”

No one answered. They all turned to Natasha. She was sitting in a chair, legs crossed, coffee in hand, not even bothering to look up.

“He’s with a friend,” she said, with the calm of someone who knows way more than she’s willing to share.

An awkward silence followed.

Tony blinked, then let out a sigh so long J.A.R.V.I.S. logged it as “storm wind, category 3.” “Great. The kid’s a damn dog in heat. His hormones are rotting his brain.”

Clint, leaned back with his feet up on the table, grinned like the older brother who lives for this kind of drama. “Let him be, Tony. He’s growing up. He can’t be a baby forever.”

“Growing up? He’s eighteen and still cries when the Wi-Fi goes down,” Stark snapped.

“And I’m sure you were worse at his age,” Clint shot back, smile dripping with mischief.

Tony glanced at him, thought about the parties, the hangovers, the models, and that one Lamborghini that ended up in a fountain. “…Touché.”

Steve cleared his throat, like the conversation had drifted a little too far into “way more than I needed to know.” “What matters is that he comes back. We need him.”

Natasha took a small sip of her coffee. “He’ll be back when he’s done.”

“Done with what?” Bruce Banner asked, raising an eyebrow.

She just smiled, mysterious. “Let’s just say he’s with someone who knows how to keep him… busy.”

Clint choked on his laughter. Banner decided he did not want to know. Steve pretended not to understand. Tony dropped into the command chair, muttering:

“If I find out he’s with one of those emo bats from Gotham, I swear to—”