A lot of fics and prompts and ideas and what have you have Draco and Harry hyphenate their last name when they’re married. For example: Malfoy-Potter.
Well. Imagine they were avidly against double-barrelled surnames (because they couldn’t agree whose should come first), but they also couldn’t really settle on just one surname, so they each go by their own–Draco uses “Malfoy”, Harry uses “Potter”, and it’s fine. Most of the time, that is.
It’s fine until one of them pisses the other off, and then a quick way to make them even more pissed is to switch the surnames–especially in public.
Consider: Harry cuts into Draco’s primping time before a ministry function, and Draco is prickly the whole night because he has a ritual, okay, it takes time to look as good as he does, Harry. So. Draco’s peeved, and they get to the ministry thing.
Harry has the odious pleasure of various meet-and-greets with the attendees.
“Harry P–” he starts to say, but Draco jumps in smoothly.
“Malfoy. We’re married now, dear, remember?”
Harry glares at him, but can’t say anything right there in the middle of the auditorium, and the couple Harry’s been introducing himself to titter into their hands and exchange meaningful looks that make both Harry and Draco want to gag.
“Harry Malfoy,” the man greets him, and for the rest of the night, that’s all anyone will call him because it’s spread, or Draco has ensured every time he opens his mouth to introduce himself, he gets there first.
In retaliation, Harry signs Draco up for as many ridiculous mail-order shopping subscriptions he can get his hands on, because that’ll surely drive Draco mad.
The poor shop attendants who are in charge of these things scratch their heads confusedly at the order, but no, when they check, the slip is very firm on what it wants. They shrug but send the subscription out anyway.
For the next two weeks, an alarming number of owls arrive with booklets and pamphlets and magazines and instructional leaflets addressed to Mr. Draco Potter on all manner of topics from the latest maternity fashion to hair loss products and treatments.
Draco, of course, works himself up into a progressively bigger and nastier snit with each one that arrives while Harry sits back and watches, amused.
(Of course, until Draco comes after him, and they do say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Whatever–it’s close enough.)
i don’t think there’ll ever be a “correct” answer on tony bringing peter along to the airport fight. because there are at least four ways of looking at it: a) tony willingly brought along a fifteen year old as a participant of the airport battle b) tony never thought it would become violent and wanted peter to keep his distance c) none of that matters because child superheroes are a stock-standard of comics and d) none of THAT matters because the creators cared about none of this discourse in the end it was all marketing for homecoming
no one will ever be able to convince another on a different perspective, i think, simply because there are so many interpretations both in and out of universe. people will always choose the argument that bests suits their own line of thinking
i can’t go to bed because i’m stressed out over whether adam gets enough sleep in college like. he’s been running on 3-5 hours for 4 years or something!! what if he doesn’t remember how to get a full 8 anymore???? help him!!!
I GOT MY FRANK TURNER TATTOO TODAY I can’t express what this man means to me, what this album means to me, or what these songs mean to me. Frank is the reason I can still get up in the morning and the reason I make it to my bed in the evening, this man met me where I was and saved my life. He’s making it easier for me to exist. I now have a constant reminder that I can always be better 💖💞
so apparently someone made a survey of favourite destiel fic authors (that someone being @unforth-ninawaters), and somehow i’m ranked as 5th favourite????!?! thaNK YOU people who put my name down????? my mother is gonna be thrilled (and then ask why i’m not #1)
on another note, i’ve spent the last two days of my life painting my room purple after literally 8 years (and i mean literally, not figuratively, or exaggeratively), trying get my health up enough that i could paint a hecking wall. it. is. done. THE WALLS ARE PURPLE
I AM PLEASED
AND DEAR GOD I AM EXHAUSTED IT’S 3AM everything hurts i’m dying i need to sleep
Option 1: Currently dying Option 2: Pining to the nth degree Option 3: Binge-watching like there’s no tomorrow Option 4: Dying and resurrecting Option 5: Shipping people Option 6: Getting no sleep because fictional characters have taken over my life Option 7: Sinning like it’s going out of style Option 8: So very tired