You throw your rent bill across the room in frustration, and it lands under your bed. A few seconds later, a claw pushes the bill back out with a wad of cash.
A barbarian warlord, a goblin king, a mighty necromancer, and a dark elven high priestess meet for one reason… To play Suburbs and SUVs, the hottest mundane suburban family Tabletop RPG!
“Can I roll to have a meltdown in the middle of the PTA bakesale?”
“Why?”
“To make Karen look like a bitch.”
Zarzabak the Ruthless: I request to speak to the manager
Lilitha The Feared: Roll to Intimidate
Zarzabak: *rolls* Damn, 2. My Bleach Blonde Bob Cut of Pettiness paired with Pastel Sweater Of Self Importance gives me a boost of 4, so, 6?
Lilitha: *rolls* The clerk remains stone faced and calls security. You are escorted out of the store.
Zarzabak: BUT I AM KAREN OF THE PTA AND HEAD OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH ASSOCIATION
Ronuck The Crusher: Get fucked Karen
Zarzabak: SUCK MY ASS SUSAN
Cruian The Undying: Well this is just great, that was the ONLY store where we could get disposable doilies.
I had to pee really bad and o forgot that I had just sliced jalapeño peppers and the chef is looking nice at me weird because I’m pouring milk on a rag and running to the bathroom
My dick has been on fire for over an hour
I told my chef what happened and he was like “you only make that mistake about fourteen times”
He tells me this story about this time he had gotten out of a chili class in which he had been cutting habenjero peppers all class and he goes back to his dorm and starts finger blasting his girlfriend and she stars SCREECHING.
She he fukin SPRINTS to the dorm prep kitchen and gets a gallon of heavy cream and runs back to the room. He starts pouring this shit all over her Cooze right, and she’s like shoveling cream into her hole. And he’s freaking out. Like he’s so sure that this chick is don’t with him forever.
So they deal with this thing and the cream works and he’s like massaging it into her pussy for like a half an hour because you have to constantly soak it to nullify the habenjero oils or whatever. And she gets INTO IT.
She fucking CUMS
And my chef tells me this stupid ass story and looks me in the eye and says to me
“Nothing says I love you like a gallon of heavy cream in her pussy”
And I think that’s the best sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Yes good story but WHY IS IT IN LIKE 8 DIFFERENT PARTS DO YOU KNOW WHAT PARAGRAPHS ARE.
ITS THIS. YOU COULD HAVE DONE THIS.
SOMETIMES PEOPLE ARE AT WORK AND CANT POST EVERYTHING AT ONE TIME FUCK OFF
lucius malfoy makes a point of not understanding any references to muggle media
arthur weasley, armed with a list of good oneliners from harry and hermione, is going to take advantage of that
no but you know arthur weasley would literally have a LIST and would whip it out and consult it with a great show of accomplishment and would probably mess up the reference anyway but wouldn’t notice and would finish it off with a big AH-HA expression of delight and
lucius is just standing there going
look i know i hate him and everything he stands for and also i’m evil but… he’s kind of cute? why do i work with this dork?
As someone who headcanons Harry Potter to be of Indian descent it pleases me to think that his name is actually Hari, and that Aunt Petunia just Anglicized it because foreigners.
According to the interwebs, ‘Hari’ is a Sanskrit name meaning… Lion.
So yeah. Hari the mixed race savior of the Wizarding World.
Brown Hindu person here:
Hari is actually another name for Vishnu one of the three main gods in Hinduism. His job is protection. And he often comes down to Earth in different forms to save the world when the balance of good and evil is slipping.
Hari Puther, incarnation of Vishnu, protector of fucking everyone.
This is beautiful, and gives the whole thing new context. I love it.
Our group broken into a goblin camp to take them out. We went in though the prison, while the fighter and the warlock were trying to get information out of the one of the prisoners, I the sorcerer step out the door to scope out the door.
DM: you see a sand pit as you leave and you’re in the center of it. Goblins and hobgoblins all around pointing spears at you. The leader is in a chair and begins to speak “who d-”
Sorcerer: I turn around and walks back into the building
Hobgoblin leader: “wait no come back I wasn’t finished”
Back inside
Sorcerer: “they know we’re here and we are surrounded”
No response as they are to busy with the prisoner
Sorcerer: I go back out, make little balls of fire and begin juggling to try and get out of the situation *nat 20*
DM: the goblins are mesmerized by your performance that all their attention is on you and completely ignoring the screams coming from inside the prison area.
the whole yule ball thing in goblet of fire was so dumb and heteronormative
ok but real talk i am in full support of harry just asking ron to the dance with him and being each others “date” and having that be an ok thing instead of asking and then ignoring the poor patil twins who deserved better than that also i would have killed to see a yule ball scene where hermione’s talking with krum and turns around and sees her two best friends trying to do the tango (ron has a rose in his mouth and everything) and fucking tearing up the dance floor
“So,” Harry says. “I need a date to the Yule Ball.”
“Like. A mandatory date?”
“A mandatory date.”
“That’s kinda messed up.”
“Yeah. Any ideas?”
Ron rubs his chin. “Cho didn’t work out, then.”
“Nope. She’s with Cedric.”
“Right, right.” He’s stroking an imaginary beard now. “And Hermione is going with some mystery guy.”
Both boys scowl in unison.
Then, slowly, they turn to look at each other.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Harry asks.
“If you’re thinking we go to the ball together, then yes,” Ron affirms.
Harry has his game face on. So does Ron. “Let’s do this.” They shake on it.
Ron suddenly frowns.
“What?”
“My dress robes are hideous. You think…”
“I can buy—”
“What? No! I mean, isn’t Parvati Patil really good at clothing charms?”
“Oh yeah,” Harry realizes. “She wears those cool dresses on the weekends sometimes—uh, saris? Or something.”
“Yeah, yeah, but she and her sister make them. I heard Lavender talking to her about it. They make loads of their own clothes, think it’s fun or whatever.”
Harry makes a face. “Girls.” He’s mended enough of Dudley’s old clothes to know sewing is not fun. Girls are weird.
“Girls,” Ron agrees.
“…it’s a really good thing we’re going together.”
“Seconded.”
——and that’s how Harry and Ron befriend Lavender Brown and the Patil sisters. The three are actually pretty alright, for girls. (Hermione doesn’t count, clearly, as she’s their best friend.) It takes a while to fix Ron’s robes into something resembling modern fashion, but by then Dean Thomas has Had Enough of Their Dithering and makes the two of them wear three-piece muggle suits under their robes (which also took some creative charmwork, and the jackets were a total loss, but it came out better than the robes overall). Lavender is entirely taken with the idea and the two spend a good few hours discussing fashion.
Harry and Ron are Not Touching That.
Naturally, the two lord the anonymity of their dates over Hermione just like she’s taken to doing to the two of them, and it morphs into a great circle of fun, no hard feelings anywhere by the time the Ball comes around, and basically the whole of Gryffindor (plus Padma of Ravenclaw) is in on one side or the other.
Fred and George have decided it’s a great idea and have invited Lee Jordan to go with the two of them. Not to be outdone, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet are bringing Katie Bell. Rumor has it that Oliver Wood is bringing quidditch gear. Which piece of gear he’s bringing, broom, quaffle, bludger, or goal hoop (don’t ask) is a hot topic of debate.
(He actually ends up bringing a whole host of underclassmen and spends the whole night giving out piggyback rides, dad-dances with them standing on his feet, and lessons about the magic used to decorate the hall, alongside Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, because they gave him the puppy eyes and he is Weak to the puppy eyes.)
——and when Hermione sees Harry and Ron come into the antechamber for champions, she hits them both on the arm for laughing at her all this time. They exchange compliments, and the boys show off their suits and Ron’s modified robes. Then she asks the real question, namely:
“Which of you will be dancing which part?”
and the two just kind of go quiet and stare first at each other, because they hadn’t even thought of that, and then back at Hermione with big pleading eyes begging for help.
McGonagall, amused but on a tight schedule, chivvies the champions and their dates out before Hermione can say more than a joking, “This is what you get for keeping it a secret from me! Do, hahaha, do the tango or something!”
Harry and Ron exchange smirks and all Hermione can bring herself to do is smother giggles in Viktor’s shoulder and conjure them a few roses.
She should’ve known better than to think that the end of it. They drag her into no few ridiculous three-way dances before the night is up. It’s a good night, and they share the next bleary morning with the rest of the dorm, as a big, wild, Gryffindor family.
——and that is how Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made the front page of the Daily Prophet, in muggle suits (vests but no jackets, sleeves rolled up) with roses in their mouths, aggressively doing the tango. The photographer has captured Harry dipping the significantly-taller Ron and waggling his eyebrows suggestively before they both lose their balance and collapse in a tangle of adolescent limbs, laughing like loons.
BOYS IN LOVE? the headline asks.
——certain people are getting really, really sick of people commenting on Harry’s love life.
——"BEST FRIENDS FOREVER" Harry, Ron, and Hermione are quoted later in an exclusive interview with Rita Skeeter, massive grins on their photographed faces, and joy in their hearts.
Concept: due to a misprinted sigil in a popular occult reference book, every time the local highschool goths try to summon something at the cemetery down the road, the conjured entity ends up in your bathroom instead.
The first time it happens, you freak out.
You think that’s pretty understandable. Adjusting to a new house in a new neighbourhood, and a new job at the same time, are all pretty stressful things. The previous owner had warned you that sometimes the bathroom got a little too hot – a fault with the heating distribution, he’d said; fucking asshole – but fire and brimstone hadn’t exactly been covered by that description.
thisacelovesheadcanons 