Dad Bod Spiderman Can’t Drive

imagine you're living in the post apocalypse and your adopted dad still makes you do homework

Something something Danny learns that Jason died and crawled out of his own grave.

Danny, to Jason: You actually got a grave?

Jason: Why? You want one?

He doesn’t notice how this could potentially sound like a threat from an outsider’s perspective.

au where when darth vader declares that he’s Luke’s father Luke comes to the (entirely reasonable) conclusion that darth vader and anakin skywalker were married

“Voldemort should have gotten a fair trial.”

No, but seriously, can we talk about this? I know this was meant as a joke but it’s just so hilarious to think about.

Why did harry need to collect all of the horcruxes first when they could’ve just tossed him in with Grindelwald. 

I mean it probably wouldn’t have worked but why was ‘kill him with love, fire, venom, and the magical equivalent of ‘no u’ the first and only option???

I’m just saying I would like more Trial of Voldemort trope fics because they’re peak comedy. Or Voldemort and Grindelwald co-habituating Nurmengard and annoying the shit out of each other. It’s what they deserve.

“Voldemort should have gotten a fair trial.”

“Sauron wasn’t under the Shire’s jurisdiction. Hobbits had no authority to depose him.”

“Aslan is hypocritical for killing the White Witch because they’re the same really. They both want to rule the world and be worshiped!”

Brought to you by: the Internet’s intellectual dishonesty when discussing Mace Windu knocking Darth Sidious flat on his ass and rightfully attempting to cut him down.  

When I was a kid, my mom was a judge and my dad was starting his solo practice, and they both worked full time. There were four of us kids between the ages of one and seven (the Just Us League) and no decent daycares nearby, so they hired a nanny.  She had three almost-adult children, and on days when she couldn’t work, one of her kids would substitute. The oldest kid was named Bob, age 18, and he had just finished army basic training when this all went down. Bob did not have the good sense god gave a rock. 

I have an older brother, Jake, who was seven; then me, Hellen, age five, then Seth, age three, and my little sister Gin would have been one. It was late August, and we were at our nanny’s house, though she was gone for the day. Bob was in charge.

Bob should probably not have been in charge.

Bob tried keeping us entertained with board games and tag and movies. Gin took a nap. Eventually he decided to get creative, and sat us down in the living room with a game and vanished into the garage. There was a smashing sound. And then some saw noises. And then some hammering. And then we saw him going around the house to the back yard through the windows, though we were too short to see what he was doing. And finally, he yelled to us to come out into the driveway. 

Jake and Seth and I trooped out. Bob had both hands behind his back. He stepped up to Jake and revealed what he had in his right hand. 

It was a wooden sword. It was clearly made from what appeared to be parts of a chair’s legs, cut down and nailed together. He presented this, and announced, “You are Sir Jake, the strongest knight!” 

He stepped up to Seth and presented what was in his left hand. It was another wooden sword, smaller than the first, also crudely made out of chair legs. He announced, “You are Sir Seth, the bravest knight!”

At this point, I was practically vibrating in place, waiting eagerly for my sword so I could use it to whale on my brothers, as god intended me to do. I was therefore understandably disappointed to be presented with the business end of a garden hose and told, “You are Miss Hellen, the Water Fairy!”

“No,” I said. “I want a sword.”

Bob was confused. “But you get water magic! Magic’s great!”

“No.” I repeated, holding the hose. It had a spray nozzle set to jet. “I want a sword.”

“Magic’s great. Magic’s better than a sword.” Bob insisted. “You’ll see. Wait here a moment.”

And then Bob ran around the side of house and vanished. 

We stood in the driveway. Jake and Seth poked each other with their swords. I spritzed them idly with the hose, trying to decide which of them would be easier to steal a sword from. 

And then we heard a quiet wooshing noise, and smelled smoke. 

We turned. As we watched, a line of fire rushed around the corner of the house, consuming a path of gasoline poured into the dry August grass. 

We paused and considered this for a few moments. I raised the hose and sprayed a jet of water at the fire. It went out. We glanced at each other. Then we took off running, following the trail of fire, spraying as we went. 

The fire led in a path around the house to the back yard. As we turned the corner, we saw Bob, clad in a bathrobe and holding a curtain rod, standing in the center of a large ring of burning grass. He cackled manically. “I am the FIRE WIZARD! Your puny swords are useless! Nothing but water magic can defeat me!”

I promptly blasted him with the hose. He spluttered. The fire did not go out. 

I turned the hose on the fire itself, spraying a section close to us so that it would extinguish. As soon as there was enough room, Jake charged forward, brandishing his chair leg sword with a battle cry. Seth, always happy to be included, followed. They ran into the circle and began beating Bob around the kneecaps with their swords. I kept spraying. 

Eventually, Bob the Fire Wizard was brought down and all the fire was extinguished. Seth and Jake continued to work on bruising Bob’s shins, and I quickly discarded the hose to lend my fists and extremely pointy elbows to the cause. Bob lay in the smoldering grass, probably regretting using such sturdy chair legs. 

Once we’d all tired ourselves out and lay panting in a heap, Bob decided it was time for the moral of the story. “You see, a sword is nothing compared to the power of a little girl with **magic**.” 

We thought about this for a few moments. Bob nodded wisely. Jake and Seth nodded back. 

“I still want a sword.” I said. 

When you summon the devil and he keeps you company at night.

You know I bet Vader could easily fix the whole Ever given Suez Canal problem. Smh at us weaklings. (This is a joke, I wasn’t sure it came across as funny enough)

He could, but whether or not he would depends on if Luke makes him.

Smol Alastor is back and he's heckin' ruthless

I'm experimenting with how I wanna do comics. I have a few I wanna do that are Hazbin Hotel related as well as others.

Then there’s Mrs. Cole. The suspicious, strict matron who takes no shit and was probably the one to threaten Tom with institutionalization. 

When Tom was a child she was probably in her prime, but as Tom got older so did she. And as parents (bc Mrs. Cole was probably the closest thing like that for Tom and probably some other orphans too) get older they become less strict... on the younger kids. 

And if there’s anything the older kids can agree on it’s that the younger kids have it way better. And the parent remembers absolutely none of the strict rules they put on the oldest kids. Gaslighting at it’s finest (see kallmekris sibling series on TikTok for inspiration).  

Smol Orphan: *leaves a dead rat and broken glass in another kid’s bed.*

Mrs. Cole: ...

Amy: oh that kid’s done for. 

Dennis: He better say his prayers. 

Mrs. Cole: ...Leave, I’ll clean it. Just don’t do it again. 

Tom: That’s it?! You locked me in my room for 2 weeks after the rabbit incident! 

Billy: You made me write lines on the entire Old Testament when I broke a window!

Mrs. Cole: That doesn’t sound like me. I never did that, you’re all so dramatic. 

Tom: *dark lord energy manifests*

Tom Riddle & The Orphanage

I’ve already talked about the under-utilization of Nobby Leach, but what about the Orphanage? 

As someone who had to live with several people (adults & children both) who made my life miserable and disliked me just as much as I disliked them…there’s no way Tom Riddle was able to avoid them all to the degree canon wants you to believe. 

Sure he has his own room, but he still has to eat, take care of his hygiene, do his chores, go to church, help with the younger children, etc. He’s going to have to interact with the other orphans and matrons at the orphanage, there’s no way around that. 

And some of the other kids may be afraid of him, but children have no fear and are always ready to test boundaries. The adults, Mrs. Cole, especially are already suspicious of him, and you bet the other kids are aware and take advantage of this to taunt and subvert Tom’s authority in front of them. 

Outside of this, there’s also no way to hate everyone and everything at the orphanage all the time. There will be some good moments because that kind of lasting hatred just is…not viable. If not on Tom’s end, then the other kids will undoubtedly become tired of tip-toeing around him. And when the bombs start to fall…no one’s going to give a shit about Tom Riddle and his weirdness, they have bigger things to worry about. And they’re all stuck together anyway. 

Let’s examine some of the relationships Tom had with the other orphans. Tom gets into a fight with Billy Stubbs and, according to Mrs. Cole, hangs his rabbit.  On a trip, Tom lures Denny Bishop & Amy Benson into a cave and traumatized them for life with something so horrible they can’t bear to speak of it.  

Nothing about what caused the argument with Billy Stubbs or why Tom chose those specific orphans to traumatize for life. Because luring two suspicious, jaded orphans into a cave where no one can hear them scream? That would take planning and a big enough motive that Tom thought the risk of Mrs. Cole catching him doing something weird again was worth it. 

But do I believe they were traumatized “for life?” No probably not. This is baby Riddle, not Dark Lord Voldemort, he’s new to the traumatizing children thing. 

So here’s where I go into the more questionable headcanon I have about the orphanage: Tom Riddle has a sibling relationship with these kids he supposedly traumatized. 

Hear me out. 

Tom killed Billy’s rabbit and traumatized Dennis & Amy; how is that sibling-like? 

I can tell you from personal experience. I have 9 siblings (technically) and several cousins who barge into my house uninvited. I also grew up on stories my mom had about her 3 siblings and my grandma had about her 11. My mom pushed her sister off a roof and cut off a piece of her tongue with safety scissors while she was sleeping. Me and the sister closest to my age drive each other crazy. Siblings are the worst to each other. 

Now these kids may not have chosen to be siblings, but rarely does anyone get that choice anyway. (And if they do, they have moments where they regret it).  

It first starts out with annoying the shit out of each other. You know, barging into their room and not closing the door when they leave, ganging up on the youngest (probably Tom), stealing each other’s toys and hiding them-Oh. OH. 

…See where I’m going there? 

Then once they get older they grow to tolerate each other and gang up on the much more frustrating younger generation of kids who’ve taken up residence in their orphanage. They’ll have to find a compromise on splitting up chores and they’ll need to have the option to talk to people they’re age. Cue reluctant siblings who refuse to admit their siblings. 

Tom Riddle: Why do I get the night shift again?

Amy Benson, to Dennis: Hey, remember that time Tom dragged us to a cave and traumatized us?

Billy Stubbs: And killed my rabbit?

Dennis Bishop: And stole my toys? 

Tom Riddle: You’re never letting this go are you. 

Dennis, Amy, & Billy: Never. 

These 4 kids grew up together and, if they were not adopted-out, grew into adulthood together. 

TL:DR

Tom Riddle does not give off only-child vibes. Discuss. 

9 technically? But also 4 or 3 or even an only child. The joys of being adopted but still having a relationship with my divorced birth parents

Pls reblog if u vote :)