meme: ask me about my mutualsstatus: accepting@fadedbouquet
14. mutuals you’ve shipped a package to
the answer to that is one big fat zero. up until recently when i made my discord, i had absolutely no contact with anyone outside of tumblr & i’ve always been very private about personal information. this of course extended to my real name & irl address. hell there’s only one person on this site that knows my real name & i had been writing with her since forever & only told her like a month ago.
9. mutuals you miss talking to
well hot damn this got wordy so TLDR version is here & long version under the cut bc i get v passionate about my mutuals
first person that comes to mind is taylor aka @miiserably who has sadly gone inactive. & as for current mutuals while i was away on hiatus i actually popped on to say hi to @apcgee & @bloodintolerant bc i missed them while i was away. i tried to check in with others but most everyone else was no longer around
so as i said big #1 is taylor but she’s had a lot of archived blogs so i’m not actual on the blog i tagged above lol. basically there was just a lot we didn’t get to explore with peter & myrtle. & i’ll be honest if i’d known she was going to be gone when i came back i probably would have made more of an effort to stay. it was just such a unique relationship that i don’t think i’ll find another one like that again. for like… more info on that whole thing i actually made a post about her/ peter & myrtle’s very distinct relationship over here. it was entirely for my benefit but if you’re curious it’s a v long but cute & wholesome read. i actually liked their marriage so much that i kept that verse single ship bc i can’t imagine that version of peter to be with anyone else.
but generally speaking there are tons of other people i miss bc when you’ve been on tumblr as long as i have, people leave. some people comeback ( myself included ) but taking that time away ( however much it was needed ) meant that a lot of mutuals i absolutely loved talking to & writing with left tumblr for one reason or another so this list could go on for days.
so as no one knows or even really cares, i have a verse where peter is the dada teacher at hogwarts. in this verse, he is married to myrtle who is still a ghost, but died as an adult. the myrtle blog i was writing with deactivated so i don’t have taylor’s explanation about how it worked, but the ship had a really special place in my heart because of how absolutely in love they where, this is pretty much entirely for myself but anyone is welcome to read it if they’d like. below the cut is a compilation of drabbles or cuts from threads that i want to be able to go back to
i’m also not sure i’ll be able to write with another myrtle because of how much i loved taylor and her portrayal. myrtle developed such interesting relationships with peter and obviously still means a lot to me
one other thing to note is a copied and pasted everything and did not change any of the formatting to match my current style.
everything taylor wrote will be on a blockquote to make it easy to differentiate, though our writing styles also make it pretty obvious
also note this is long af in case anyone is interested in reading it/some of it
the first bit is actually in the typical canon verse where peter is a student and myrtle still died as a student but i wanted to include it all the same. i also want to note that their younger selves did not get along at first in the slightest. myrtle was rude and insulting and peter was easily hurt but eventually they found a rhythm and formed a sort of friendship.
the prompt was non-sexual acts of intimacy, specifically reading a book together
[ When he returns, she holds the book out to him.
The lovely book that made her smile when she
received it had made her head hurt when she
tried to read it. Fixing him with a distant gaze,
she spoke in an equally passive voice. ]
’ Turn the pages for me while I read, please. It makes my
head ache when I interact with the
living world for too long. ’
[ Without another word, she sits on the thankfully dry
ground –rather a compliment within itself, she
thinks, as she did not flood the place as she knew
he would be coming– and motions for him to join
her. ]
and the book theme leads us into this next bit
just before he was meant to leave hogwarts for the
holidays, peter made his way over to the long since
abandoned ( by students at least ) girls washroom
on the first floor. it had occurred to him during his
christmas shopping that although she wasn’t quite
considered a friend ( & she likely didn’t see him as
one either ), he felt the need, but perhaps simply
want, to pick something out for myrtle as well. she
was always so, herself, & he doubted there were any
that had gotten her a gift for christmas, let alone
many who visited her besides him.
upon entering, he called out for her. once he received no
response, he assumed she might be elsewhere in the school
on one of her rare excursions, & so decided to leave the very
neatly wrapped present on on the the counters where it might
remain dry should any flooding occur. in hindsight, he
supposed a book might not have been the best thing to have
brought to a girl that frequently flooded the room in which she
inhabited, but at the time, the idea of bringing her something
to take up at least a few hours of her time seemed nice.
it was a muggle book, which he supposed was another
unnecessary risk, but he had read it himself & thought
it was utterly brilliant. it was adventurous, slightly
absurd, but extremely entertaining & very funny from
what he got out of it. the book was the hitchhiker’s guide
to the galaxy by douglas adams, & he just hoped she
enjoyed it. she was dead after all, she could use a little
bit of cheering up. it had a note on it as well, for just
such an occasion & it read as follows in absolutely
terrible ( but for once with perfect spelling ) handwriting:
Happy Christmas, Myrtle.
I wasn’t sure what you would like, but I thought you might enjoy
this. Be sure to wait to open it though. I won’t know, or care really
if you’ve opened it before you’re meant to, but at least try to hold
off until Christmas morning.
From that little rat of a boy,
Peter
[ every once in a while, myrtle had to leave. the
frozen-over black lake was always her favorite
destination, with it’s ice caps thinning in some
places just enough to see her reflection.
she was an ugly thing, not worthy of anyone’s time.
no, she reminded herself, that wasn’t right. or
maybe it was. where she stood with peter in terms
of a relationship was an area as opaque as her
skin. she was swimming in murky waters again,
and for the first time in fifty years, she was afraid
of drowning.
myrtle thought herself a poison as she pretended
like she could feel the glassy ice under her hand.
she traced patterns into the light dusting of snow
that settled along the top, heaving a sigh as she
realized her little drawings were just hideous eyes.
she couldn’t sleep any more, but if she did, it would
have been in black and white. black, white and a
splash of garish yellow. any other colors didn’t
matter, they couldn’t shock her enough to die.
yellow had.
scratching out the doodles with her nails that would
never grow, myrtle stood and wiped away any
offending tears. it was christmas, where was her
cheer?
it was dead like her, she knew that. wandering back
to the castle, she recalled the faint memory of
firelight against the sweeping navy blue of the
ravenclaw common room. she remembered sitting
up all night, wanting to catch anyone who left her a
present. myrtle never caught anyone, for no one
ever did. her presents were given to her when she
went home for the summer.
floating back into her bathroom, she wondered why she
bothered. so young was she when she died, and so
very scared of death itself, she remained behind. it
was curious parody of life she led, one that, perhaps,
left her a bit less empty than she had been in life.
at least she had her books. the size of the hogwarts library
had doubled in size since she was alive, and every so
often she could find someone to turn the pages for her.
musing over what she would read over the break, when she
might actually be able to visit the library during the day,
she nearly missed the package sitting safely on a counter.
expecting the worst, she did not touch it for a very long
time. she had no faith in hogwarts students any more, and
rather expected some hideous prank. it was hours before
she even dared to read the note.
her mouth fell open when she did, hanging like an unhinged
basket. she wondered if she should cry before realizing she
couldn’t. she was too busy smiling.
it always hurt a bit to interact with the living world, but she
ran her hand down the side of the packaging. what it was,
she knew, but not the specifics.
leaving the gift where it was, she floated to her window. myrtle
knew she would not need to make a trip to the library at all. ]
this next one was a drabble taylor wrote another huge turning point in their relationship with their younger selves. it was a kiss meme, the prompt was ‘ghost kiss’
[ He didn’t have any idea what it was like, to be so
cold and so empty. All Myrtle could feel was
pain in one form or another. She couldn’t touch
things without a searing headache, couldn’t leave,
couldn’t let it go.
Peter had become her little rat. In him, she poured
every bit of malice and misery she had in her
unaging body. He, likewise, attempted to do the
same, but it never reached her. She could feel if
she tried, but nothing could feel her.
It was on a Wednesday when she snapped. It was
raining buckets, the lightning flashing behind
stained glass windows that appeared to be crying.
She had been for hours and only stopped so she
could speak clearly.
What he said didn’t matter, but it sparked a fire in her
she thought long extinguished. Not one of desire but
of unimaginable rage. She rushed at him, taking the
sides of his face in a death-cold grip.
Myrtle pressed her lips to his. Could he feel it? Could
he feel how sad she was? How all she had left was
bitterness and pain? God she hoped so. Someone
had to, the loneliness was killing her over again.
She pulled away, releasing him as her eyes filled up
with tears for the millionth time in that decade. ]
’ I’m sorry, Peter. ’
[ And she was gone. Safe in her hiding spot where he
—for once— could not see her cry, she hoped nothing
she said touched him either. Myrtle was sad, she was
lost, but it was a kind of melancholy that one had to
bear alone. She was not so selfish to condemn
someone else to it. ]
what started off the proper marriage. it was a meme “I will be married for 3 days to the first person in my askbox who says "Honey, I'm home"”. i sent it in, and this beautiful thread came about
’ Peter, I feel quite like this is some sick joke. You’re
not a child –physically, I can’t
say much for your mental state,
I truly don’t know—, you
wouldn’t do that, right? ’
[ She feels ridiculous either way. ]
’ Is this really binding? I think death has already parted us. ’
“myrtle, it’s much too late to change my mind. i’m afraid
i was bound to you long ago. & i don’t care if anyone else
sees it as binding. i love you. i have for a long time, & ( if
you’ll let me ) i’d like to have the honour of calling you my
wife. the only joke would be a cruel one being played on
me by the rest of the universe were you to refuse me now.”
’ You bloody idiot, you’ll make me cry and
smear my makeup! ‘
[ Despite her annoyed tone, she reaches for his
hand. It might hurt a bit if she holds on for too
long, but her need to prove he’s solid, real and
telling the truth is something she cannot
explain. After a moment, she smiles. ]
’ I’m not an idiot, I won’t let you get away. I- I
think you’ll make me
happy. ‘
the sensation of her cool skin against his own was
unexpected to say the very least, but to hell if he wasn’t
going to hold onto that fleeting moment of her touch. so
rarely was he privy to it that he had learned to cherish
to moments when she chose to interact with the living
world; he knew the effect it had on her.
“the chance to make you happy is all i’m really asking for.”
’ I haven’t been happy in so long. I imagine I
won’t be very good at it. ‘
[ She drops her hand, deciding not to tell him
it’s because she wants to kiss him at the
end of all this without a searing headache. ]
’ You will be able to stand me? I like to think I
will make you content. ‘
“i have this long, haven’t i?”
his words sounded with a concurrent ( & teasing ) smile.
after all, it wasn’t like their meeting had been a recent one.
she had been so cold to him at first & in more ways than
one, but for some reason ( only merlin knew why ) he kept
coming back. he was inexplicably drawn to her at first, &
now, he knew there wasn’t anything she could do that would
make him want to leave.
another meme!! another kiss one at that
[ She’d never kissed anyone properly before,
it was a miracle it worked out as well as it
did. It required quite a bit of concentration,
making sure that she did not simply pass
through him as she put her arms around his
neck. It was that bit of contact that gave her
enough courage to press her lips to his.
Myrtle knew she was cold —dreadfully so—
but hoped that her utter elation would be
enough for him. Pulling back, she offered a
nervous smile. ]
’ I wanted to practice before the wedding, with my luck I
won’t be able to do it right
the day of. ‘
there had been no forewarning. there was just the swift
movement of her lips to his. she was so cold, & her
touch so light he felt as if were he to make any sudden
movements she might break apart. even so, he wouldn’t
trade it for the world. he never expected to be able to
kiss her, or hold her ( at least not in the way he might
with a living woman ) but knowing she was his was
more than enough. she made him very happy, & he
could only hope she felt the same.
“i’m sure it’ll be fine.”
& her smile was met with one of his own, although his
was significantly more reassuring in nature.
here’s a couple of silly little thought meme answer (not sure why the writing is suddenly all small but whatever)
— Silly me, and silly him. I’m dead, there’s no point in
getting married. But oh does
it feel lovely to be… well,
loved. So I’ll do it, I’ll do it
because I’ve dreamed of it
and because if I must marry
anyone, it might as well be
him. He would be the one to
give me all I’ve ever wanted,
wouldn’t he?
[ She knows she loves all of him, but perhaps
loved his brain first. If nothing else, she
loved his reading list before giving the rest
of him a chance. True, he could not
remember the ways to identify a werewolf
(despite Remus being one) but he knew that
she liked every flower under the sun, and
that adventure books were her favorite to read.
That was what really mattered to her. ]
surprise kiss from peter meme
[ she’s so surprised, she nearly passes
right through him. realizing at the last
second what he’s trying to do, she
gives him a quick peck on the lips
before pulling away. ]
’ A bit of warning next time, love? ’
next is a letter myrtle “wrote” for peter followed by a sticky note she left, though completely unrelated
Peter,
Love, how do you not own a copy of Candide? Going down to my office to get mine. Very disappointed.
this is a 6 song playlist taylor made for this ship
if i didn’t care — the ink spots
easy living — billie holiday
a thousand times goodnight — abel korzeniowski
love me as though there were no tomorrow — nat king cole
blue moon — frank sinatra
moonrise — brian crain
here is a moodboard taylor made
next is another kiss meme, but one i wrote.
ϡ for a kiss that lets you know I love you.
a year had passed since they had been wed. it had
been so peculiar, but it seemed himself & his love were
the only two that didn’t seem to care that one was living
& one was dead. “til death do us part” seemed like an
overrated phrase anyhow.
“happy anniversary, myrtle.”
that was when he presented her with the gift. it was a
sunflower, still in the pot too. seemed a bit ironic to give a
living plant to a ghost, knowing that eventually the plant
would die, no? exactly. this particular sunflower held up
only the appearance of living. in truth, it was neither living,
nor dead. it was simply charmed to uphold the image of
itself at the true pinnacle of its beauty, as if to mirror her.
“a sunflower. i read somewhere that they’re supposed to be a
a symbol of admiration so it seemed fitting that i give one to
you. & it’s been charmed. to always remain as beautiful as you.”
& with that, their lips met in a fleeting kiss. but that was
all they needed. their love wasn’t conveyed through
conventional means like touch, but when they did, the
intent was clear. he believed she deserved the world.
and another kiss from peter
19. forceful kiss
he hadn’t the foggiest idea of what brought it on, but he
would certainly be ｌｙｉｎｇ if he were to say that he
didn’t find the surprise pleasant. he was used to a certain
FORCE behind her words ( it came with the territory of being
her ＨＵＳＢＡＮＤ ), but the force behind her kiss was all
too unfamiliar.
a smile threatened to surface at the spontaneity of it all,
but instead, peter settled on wrapping his arms around her
ever fleeting form, intent on relishing each moment it lasted.
here’s some little things or silly little back and forth but that’s domestic married life for you (again it’s small, don’t know why, not gonna bother )
’ Just you watch. I’ll be the next Delia Smith! ’
the bowl ( & it’s now freshly mixed contents ) were placed
on the counter next to her, as requested. & a laugh rung out
at the proclamation.
“& when you do, i swear to purchase all of your cookbooks.”
SEPARATE THING
“never a dull day with you, is there?”
’ Oh shush, we had plenty of fun yesterday
evening. Tonight I just want to
sit here and listen to the radio. ’
SEPARATE THING
“do you have a valentine yet?” he’s joking, but how could he resist asking?
’ Valentines are for women without husbands.
you are my valentine forever.
And my date to any future
Yule balls. ’
another meme prompted drabble taylor wrote.
this one: crowds used to freak me out
her first deathday party is more alive than most of the school.
how she got the pins in her hair and the diamond necklace around her neck she doesn’t care, but it’s there and it’s sweeter than any sixteen.
for once, she’s happy. it’s dizzying and beautiful and just a bit like waking up drenched in cold water.
she’s smiling like she’s trying to make up for thirty years of sobbing, and in a way, she is.
her favorited records –scratched nearly beyond repair– play out a big band song that she probably had memorized when she was a teenager now. the words don’t matter, what does is that she’s dancing.
alone at first, as everyone starts that way, but then she’s dancing with him. all of a sudden, everything gets much clearer.
her laugh is drowned out in her ears and she doesn’t seem to realize that she’s the only one carrying on like she still has a heartbeat. as if she gives a damn.
she can flush, she can’t be short of breath, but she pretends she is as she winds her arms around his neck. is she dancing with him or is he just along for her giddy twirling? she doesn’t know but the rest of the guests do.
they’re all watching the horrifying spectacle of a woman gone insane.
she’s watching him again.
when she stops, everyone’s worried she’ll start to cry again. never in all their lives –or deaths– had they seen anything so embarrassing. myrtle rolls her eyes and takes peter’s hand.
’ Something slower, maybe? Where people can keep their noses out of our business? ’
she doesn’t wait for an answer before walking away with him in tow. her hand is firmly gripping his like a lifeline, even though she’s the one pulling him onwards.
’ I didn’t ask before. ‘
myrtle says when she finds an empty classroom. the moonlight’s nice, shining through the window, sectioned off by an ebony frame.
’ And I’m not asking now. Dance with me. ’
it’s not a request, but she does give him enough space to pull away. it makes her smile again when he doesn’t.
they look like they’re about to waltz when she realizes there isn’t any music. sighing in defeat, she lets her head rest on his shoulder.
there’s no music, there’s no dancing, but there could be.
pulling back just slightly, she smiles up at him. she’s not alive, but she could be.
gotta have some sad in here so here’s a drabble prompted by † for a kiss to say good bye forever.
well she’s not about to leave him, is she? she shoots a nurse a glare. obviously the woman’s never seen a ghost and her dying husband. the thought makes her stomach twist.
dies. died. will die.
it’s all so final.
it was never like that when she died, it happened so quickly. she looks to him in quiet terror. what if he goes quickly too?
without thinking, she presses a kiss to his lips. she’s in luck, he’s still alive when she does. sitting back, she does not feel accomplished.
sighing, she takes his hand in hers and ignores the stabbing pain. she kisses the back, very gently, wishing her lips were warm.
she sits with him for hours after he stops breathing, she won’t let his hand go. her head hurts so much she thinks she might scream, but she can’t even cry.
she is dead, but cannot die. she is, was and will be, all without him.
and to end on, taylor was given the prompt “peter has died and moved one without you” (obviously as an alternate ending to the above)
[ she knew it would happen one day. he was
too free to keep locked at her side for
eternity. she would never want that for him
anyway. wherever he was, he was free.
nodding, she did let a few tears spill over
onto her cheeks. she did not bother to dry
them.
is, was, will be. and all without him, too. it
seemed she found a reason to cry again. ]
SLENDER FINGERS DANCE OVER polished i v o r i e s , lithe && nimble in their tune as notes flow from each DASH of pressure. like this, eyes CLOSED as heaven’s symphonies wash over him, he is ALMOST at peace. like this, he is almost DIVINE. the tune dwindles, chords THRUMMING at the fabric of time as they slow, growing ever nearer to the death of SOUND. the final resolution, then he glances up, MIRTH sparking jovial light over his face as he NOTICES her. lips split in a grin && he slides over, making ROOM on the bench beside himself. ‘ fancy seeing you here. would you LIKE me to play for you ? ‘
eliot wasn’t ever particularly fond of dead british girls at the best of times, & especially not when he was out of cigarettes. the beast was coming to kill them all, & he knew it just as well as the rest of his friends, but eliot needed a break from it. after finishing up at plover’s house, he found himself wandering the humid streets of england at an ungodly hour, trying to clear his mind from the battle to come. it wasn’t working all too well as his mind kept involuntarily wandering back to what would happen if they didn’t win- a still very possible scenario.
after happening to hear whispers of magic from two hogwarts professors, he managed to find himself learning of hogwarts & asking if he could tag along to hopefully learn of new battle magic. he was allowed after explaining his predicament & ultimately find himself in the girl’s bathroom after hearing myrtle’s wails. his arms folded in irritation as he leaned on one leg, making his annoyance at her noises glaringly apparent.
❛ can you just shut up, really, is it that hard ?? . ❜
“ i do suppose that quite heavily depends on just what one’s life is like, really. ” monty once had thought the same thing. that life was rather intentionally attempting to make him lonesome and unfortunate. his mother had died, he’d been reminded that sibella would likely never marry him. life had been so unfair, that monty had been compelled to change his circumstance.
these days, from the decent view he had atop the hill on which high hurst sat, things did seem a little more acceptable. perhaps that was one of life’s great lessons: fairness came only to those who created it for themselves.
monty, however, was not one to think hard on such matters. he didn’t figure himself much of a philosopher, truth be told. rather, monty simply took what he wanted to change, and made certain it happened. he had, after all, quite handily removed the obstacles standing between himself and a position that entitled him to wealth and importance. who was he to complain?
“ if life is so terribly unfair, then i don’t suppose you might find it in yourself to create the very change you wish to see. perhaps it is just a product of my upbringing —- but i have found that idleness does not often move one to success. as much as i most certainly wish it could. ”
VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗💗💗(purely aesthetic appreciation of looks)FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗💗💗(how close a friend they consider them)SEXUAL DESIRE: 💔(wanting to have sex with them)ROMANTIC INTENT: 💔(hoping for a romantic relationship)
💔 Non-existent💗 Very low💗💗 A little💗💗💗 Hopeful💗💗💗💗 High💗💗💗💗💗 Maximum
news of myrtel’s arrival reached robb’s ears quickly & he had made it his top priority to walk through the halls of winterfell to the courtyard. he does his best to hide his excitement, to slow his pace as he walks towards the carriage that had only just arrived. arms cross over one another as she steps down, skirts falling past her feet, & only when he is sure that she is ready does he step forward. ❛ how was your mother’s nameday celebration? i do hope you gave her regards from winterfell. ❜
