reasons i'm not sleeping

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.)

4

“Are you okay?”

Deleted scenes that shouldn’t have been deleted or relationships I wanted to see more of: Jason and Pearl ScottPower Rangers 2017


A Fevered Dream - Hurt!Jason, Scott Family Feels Fic.

Markiplier Gothic

-The lucky flannel has returned. The lucky flannel will always return. You cannot seem to destroy the lucky flannel. No matter how many times you steal it and burn it in the woods behind your house, it always makes its way back to him. You have tried to warn him many times, warn him that the luck comes with a price, warn him that the flannel will one day demand that all debts are paid; he has not heard your warnings, or perhaps he is ignoring them. Either way, you sadly conclude, it is too late. He is too far gone now.
You stop trying to steal the lucky flannel.

-“Herb lore,” you hear one, solitary voice chirp. It is a voice you do not recognize.
“Herb lore.” Responds another.
A cacophony of voices suddenly surround you. “Herb lore, herb lore, HERB LORE!” They chant, although not quite in unison.
You do not know where these voices are coming from, nor do you remember when you started chanting with them. With each passing repetition, you forget a little more about the life you lived before herb lore. You keep chanting anyway.

- @markiplier uses a slightly different voice for approximately 4 and a half seconds in a video. By the time you click away and open a new tab, Tumblr has created a character out of this voice. They have named him Kevin. Kevin now has four ask blogs and twelve fan blogs, seven of which have some variant of the phrase “protection squad” in their usernames. One of them is dedicated solely to NSFW KevinxAntisepticeye fan fiction. It already has 300 followers.

-Every once and a while, you hear the Ancient Ones howling outside your window in the middle of the night. “COLA AND MEAL PLEASE, NO BREAD,” they shriek. You do not know what this means. You are too afraid to ask.

-“Markiplier’s fanbase is a bunch of 12 year olds,” you hear them say. You look around, but you can’t see any. You realize that you can’t remember the last time you saw a 12 year old at all. What does a 12 year old look like? How long have you been older than 12? Were you ever 12?
You turn to the person nearest to you. It is a middle-aged man. He has a wife and two children. He works in accounting.
“How old are you?” You ask.
“12,” he replies.
You scream.

-“Subscribe for More!” reads the cheerful font at the end of the compilation video. It is not a suggestion.

-A blonde woman in an alien-themed sweatshirt passes you in the grocery store. As she walks around your cart, her arm brushes against a six pack of Corona.
“I CAN’T DRINK THAT, OR I WILL LITERALLY DIE,” a voice booms, the noise crackling in the air like lightning. The woman glances at you and you nod, confirming that, yes, you heard it too.

-“Shares are a little low this month,” he tells you. Something about his tone fills you with a strange, primal fear. You share his videos with your friends. You share them with family. You write the URLS on pieces of paper and staple them to trees.
“Shares are a little low this month.”
You’re positive it’s a warning this time.

-You go on a date with Markiplier. “You look so familiar. Have we met?” he asks. You decide not to tell him that you have. You have done all of this before. You have always been on this date with Markiplier.
There are now two Markipliers. You are holding them both at gunpoint. You know that the one on the left is the real one, because you have done this before. You have always been doing this.
You shoot the one on the left anyway.
Afterwards, you go out for ice cream.
“Bonjour!” The man behind the counter smiles. His eyes are not yet filled with quiet desperation. He must not know about the time loop.
You go on a date with Markiplier.

Reasons Why I'm Moving to Japan:

-THEY DON’T SLEEP ON MONSTA X

-THEY RECOGNIZE MONSTA X’S TALENT

-JAPAN IS MONBEBE AF

-THEY TREAT MY BABIES LIKE THEY DESERVE TO BE TREATED

-DID I MENTION THEY LOVE MONSTA X?

8

Finest girl I ever met in my whole life, wanna take her home, make her my wife.
Knew she was a freak when she started talking…

3

PRODUCE 101 S02 fav trainee ( 2 / ? ) : ong seongwoo 

… okay I’m not gonna get further than lineart tonight BUT!!! Here’s Bloodhound and Kitten doing some spring cleaning, getting the apartment ready for their new little ‘brats’ to move in :3

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 💖💞

Imagine the other members taking pictures of Woozi when he sleeps in a funny position.

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

k bye

links to all 65 of my destiel fics on ao3, because of reasons

some favourites:

and my newest fic (which i’m changing the summary for right now because nobody knows what it’s meant to be):

2

Every time I have to log into AO3, I hear her voice.