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#pepperminty-ghost
turtle-babe83 · 1 year
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Humbuggled
Raph x F!Reader
Warning: Language and NSFW content 18+ only
This is probably the longest piece I’ve written, and I hope you all enjoy it. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 🎄
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Candy canes. Blech.
Hallmark Christmas movies. Gag.
Mariah Carey could take that song and shove it somewhere unpleasant. Barf.
Raphael wanted absolutely nothing to do with the holidays. It was too materialistic, too pepperminty, and there was too much red and green everywhere, even for him. Mikey constantly sang Christmas carols and Donnie was obsessed with Peppermint Mochas and iced cookies. Even Leo and Master Splinter were more cheerful than usual. But Raph just couldn’t get into it this year, not when he couldn’t have what he wanted most.
You.
You had entered their lives last winter, after the holidays were past. Over the last year, you had become a close ally and friend to the mutant family, helping out on missions and with medical care. You fit in well with his brother’s girlfriends and his father adored you. You were beautiful both inside and out, with mouthwatering curves and the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met. He didn’t deserve you.
He was gruff, cantankerous, and decidedly not human. He would never be able to take you out and show you off. He couldn’t meet your family or friends, attend events with you, or even take you on a proper date. The fact was, he loved you too much to tell you how he felt. It wasn’t the fear of rejection that twisted his guts, it was the fear of acceptance. So, Raphael did the most selfless thing he had ever done in his life. He kept his feelings strictly to himself with the solid belief that his misery was best for you.
🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼🎅🏼
Joe had fond memories of the Christmas season from when he was alive. There had been big family dinners, fun work parties, and mistletoe kisses. He found that watching the unusual family he had posthumously adopted enjoying the holidays warmed his soul. Over the last two years, he had successfully helped Leo and Mikey unveil their feelings to the lovely ladies they were head over heels for, and helped put the spice back in Donnie’s relationship with his girlfriend. He was proud of his track record. There was just one brother left and good grief, did he ever need Joe’s help.
Raphael.
The big brute was so damn stubborn. You were the perfect woman for him but he had some self-righteous notion that you would be better off with a human companion. He wouldn’t even consider talking with you about it. Joe wanted to shake him.
Even worse, Raph wasn’t exactly into the idea of the lair ghost. While Leo and Mikey were both more attuned to the spiritual anyhow, even scientific type Donnie had been easier to convince. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe. More that he just wanted nothing to do with it. Joe pondered the situation as he observed the turtles enjoying their Christmas Eve party.
Dinner had been boisterous but clearly delicious, and afterwards, everyone settled down around the living room area to watch Christmas movies. Master Splinter retired to his room. Leo and his sweetheart piled up together in the oversized recliner. Donnie settled on one end of the couch with his girlfriend curled up in his lap. Mikey and his girl made a nest of pillows and blankets in the floor in front of the tv and snuggled close together. That left the other end of the couch. Raph sat heavily with a slight scowl, knowing you would take the spot beside him. Joe rolled his eyes. As you approached the couch, he gave you a little shove so you stumbled and fell into Raphael’s lap. You scrambled up with an apology on your lips. Raph looked pained as he helped you sit beside him. Then he crossed his arms and directed his full attention to the movie. Joe watched the hurt flash across your face and felt a twinge of sorrow on your behalf. He was tempted to smack the turtle on the back of his dense head.
“What did you pick to watch?” Leo asked Mikey.
His girlfriend answered for him, “A classic! The Muppet’s Christmas Carol.”
Mikey started the movie and everyone quieted down to enjoy the film. Joe was still trying to figure out how to help you and Raph reach a point of understanding when he found himself watching the movie. He chuckled to himself as he compared Raphael’s sour approach to the holidays with Scrooge onscreen. And that’s when it hit him. It was time to try his hand at dream walking.
Raph was about to meet Joe, the ghost of Christmases past, present, and future.
🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄
Somehow, you had dozed off during the movie. Raph went stiff as your head fell onto his large bicep. He could smell the scent of your shampoo wafting up from your hair all sprawled over his skin. Fuck, you smelled incredible. It took all his willpower to remain stoic throughout the rest of the movie. He woke you as the others were making their way to their respective bedrooms.
“Hey tiger, movie’s over,” he muttered, nudging you gently.
You blinked bleary eyes, then noticed everyone else was gone. You looked up at his handsome face, feeling your heart clench. Now was your chance.
“I’m too tired to try to make it home,” you mumbled, making your voice sound as sleepy as possible. “Can I stay the night here?”
Something you couldn’t identify flashed in his eyes but was gone within seconds. He nodded hesitantly.
“Sure, ya can have my bed. I’ll sleep out here on da couch,” he replied.
Your heart sunk. You were hoping he would share the bed with you, but knew better than to push him. Maybe he truly didn’t have any feelings for you. It was entirely possible that the times you caught him staring at you had nothing to do with love or even lust. You sighed wistfully, then bid him good night.
As you snuggled down in his bed, his rugged scent enveloped you. Your body heated with want while your eyes pricked with tears. You fell asleep hugging his pillow.
Raph tossed and turned on the couch with thoughts of you curled up in his bed driving him to madness. Sleep came reluctantly as he fought the fantasies invading his thoughts. Joe stood at the end of the couch close to Raph’s head, waiting for the moment he succumbed to rest. The second he went under, Joe reached out and touched him, entering through his mind’s eye in the center of his forehead. He went straight to the ninja’s memories and searched for just the right one.
💤😴💤😴💤😴💤😴💤😴💤
Raphael looked around in confusion. He recognized the building he was in, but he hadn’t been there in several months. In fact, he’d only been there once: the night he met you.
“Remember this night, Raphael?”
Raph startled at the unexpected male voice. He whirled around, hands going for his sai. A nondescript male stood behind him with hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. His hair was a golden brown and the shadow of a beard covered his jawline. Brown eyes that saw far too much stared back into Raphael’s green ones.
“Who da fuck are ya?!” he snarled, twirling his sai expertly in his large hands.
The man smiled, “C’mon, Raph. You know who I am.”
The large turtle growled and began to circle the man, who for his part, didn’t look concerned in the least.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t’ve asked ya, asshole,” he retorted.
The man sighed, “The name is Joseph, but your brothers prefer to call me Joe.”
Raph froze. There was no way. This was a dream, right? It had to be.
“I musta had some bad eggnog tonight,” Raph snorted. “Dreaming about a damn ghost. Mikey’s got in my head.”
Joe chuckled softly, “Ah, Mikey. He’s pretty happy now with his girl. That’s why I’m here, Raph. I want you to be happy, too. And frankly, you’re about to blow it. Y/n is perfect for you.”
Raph frowned, “I’m not trying to get with y/n. She deserves better than a mutant freak like me.”
Joe pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “If I wasn’t already dead, you’d give me an aneurysm. Listen, altruism is fine and dandy but the woman wants you. Badly. She’s been in love with you for months.”
“Bullshit.”
Joe gestured toward the door, “I’ll prove it to you. Consider me your Ghost of Christmas Past.”
With that, he walked through the door, expecting Raph to follow. After a brief argument with himself, he gave in and sought to catch up. Past the open door was a scene of chaos. One of your coworkers had been fired and returned to work with a gun. You were one of his hostages. Raph spotted you hiding under your desk, frantically texting on your phone to reach your family, afraid you wouldn’t get to tell them that you loved them. He started towards you, but Joe placed a hand on his arm.
“This is just your memory. You can’t alter it. Watch her carefully, especially once you begin to interact with her,” he advised.
Raph’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. A moment later, he and his brothers snuck into the room unseen. Well, not totally. He was watching you closely and saw your eyes widen in shock as you spotted the mutants. Then, you focused specifically on him. He felt butterflies in his stomach at your perusal of him. You were glued to him as he swiftly disarmed the disgruntled worker, awe evident on your face. When Mikey found you and coaxed you out from under your desk, you were cordial but still kept your rapt attention on the red brute.
“See?” Joe asked, smugly.
Raphael’s slowly growing smile dropped instantly.
“Don’t prove nothin’.”
Joe groaned, “You really are stubborn. Alright, let’s take a visit to the here and now. Ghost of Christmas Present, at your service. Let’s go!”
He turned on his heel and went back through the door they had just come in. Raph shrugged and followed, wondering why they were going back to the previous room. When he passed the threshold, however, he found himself in his own bedroom. Joe gestured toward the bed where you laid in deep slumber.
Raph gazed at you, your arms would tightly around his pillow, and his blanket wrapped about your body. You looked peaceful and perfectly at home. The sight of you sleeping in his bed did something to him. He could picture you there every night, clinging to him the way you held the pillow. He’d never been jealous of an inanimate object before.
“Look at her there,” Joe murmured. “Like it’s where she belongs.”
He watched Raph closely. A range of emotions flickered over the terrapin’s face. Desire and love warred with doubt and insecurity. Joe knew that he needed to give the affectionate emotions some reinforcement if they were to overcome Raphael’s deepest fears. He stepped closer to you and touched your forehead, giving you a momentary dream of being in the big brute’s arms. You sighed happily in your sleep and mumbled his name reverently. Raph startled at that and Joe smiled.
“She’s dreaming of you. Raphael, she loves you. Why can’t you just tell her how you feel and give both of you what you want most?”
Raph squeezed his eyes shut tight. You deserved more, right? Why was his argument in his head getting fainter? The voice of reason was fading fast. He growled in frustration.
“It's because I love her that I keep my mouth shut,” he grumbled. “I want’er to have a good life and I ain’t good enough for her.”
Joe could see the cracks in his facade. Raph was starting to give in. Well, one more try should do the trick. Time to pull out the big guns. He walked over to the big guy who was still watching you with love in his eyes. Joe snapped his fingers and suddenly, everything went black.
Raph felt panic bubbling in his chest when suddenly he was standing in a foggy cemetery before a tombstone with his name on it.
“What the fuck?!” he snarled.
A figure in a black cloak stepped out from the fog and Raph once again reached for his weapons. Then, the darkness within the cowl began to hoot with laughter. The cloak fell back to reveal a very amused Joe. Raph was absolutely pissed.
“What is all this shit?”
Joe wiped the imaginary tears from his eyes as the cloak faded and the scene around them went fuzzy.
“Ghost of Christmas Future!” he chuckled. “Oh man, you should have seen your face! Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
The scene around them began to come into focus again but this time it was at the top of the Empire State Building. It was winter still, you were bundled up and he was even wearing warmer gear. Raph raised a brow at the nerves he saw on his dream version’s face. Then, shock dropped his jaw as he watched this other Raphael get down on one knee with a beautiful ring to propose to you. You squealed your “yes” loudly and threw yourself into his arms. Tears rolled down your cheeks as he shakily slipped the ring on your finger. Then you kissed him soundly.
“I believe y/n thinks you are more than good enough for her. You are her choice, Raphael. She’s just waiting for you to choose her, too.”
Raph felt a lump in his throat as he watched the scene before him. You kept kissing him and he looked happier than he’d ever been. Could Joe be right? Was this truly his future?
“You have a decision to make. I suggest you make it quickly. Merry Christmas, Raphael.”
Raph started to ask the spirit a question when he suddenly found himself jerking awake, still on the couch in the lair. It took him a moment to reorient himself. Was it all made up in his head? Just a dream brought on by stress and his brothers’ ghost stories? He sat up and debated his next move. He looked over at his bedroom door, and flinched in surprise when the doorknob twisted and the door swung open. He waited for you to come out, but after a minute, he stood.
“Joe?” he whispered.
When no one responded, he crept forward quietly and peeked through the doorway. You still laid in the same position from his dream and clearly, you were not the one who opened the door. He felt his stomach flutter at the implications.
“Okay, I believe ya now,” he said to the darkness.
He stepped into his room and closed the door behind him. Switching on the lamp next to his bed, Raph shook your shoulder gently.
🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌
You came awake to a gentle nudge and blinked sleepily in the low light of the bedside lamp. The first thing you became aware of was a large shadow hovering over you. You flinched and opened your eyes wide in fear until you realized who the shadow belonged to.
“Raph? What’s wrong?”
The large turtle scratched his head, looking sheepish. In fact, you had never seen him look so uncertain before. You sat up and patted the edge of the bed. After a moment of hesitation, he sat. He suddenly found a callous on his palm very interesting. Glancing at your phone on the nightstand, you saw that it was 2am. What reason could he possibly have for waking you?
“Raph,” you coaxed gently, “what is it? You know you can tell me anything right?”
He took a deep breath and decided just to spit it out. Bracing his heart for rejection, he made himself look you in the eye.
“Anythin’?” he asked. “Even if it changes everythin’? Even if…if it’s…that I love ya?”
You froze. Were you dreaming? Did he really just utter the words you have been desperate to hear for months now? You swallowed hard and then pinched your leg hard. Damn, that hurt. Okay, not dreaming.
“You-you love me?” you squeaked.
His cheeks turned a darker shade of green. He began to wring his hands nervously, averting his gaze to his feet.
“It’s fine if ya don’t feel the same,” he started, but you didn’t give him a chance to say more.
You launched yourself at him, tackling the unsuspecting brute backwards on the mattress. He landed with an “oof” as you wrapped your arms and legs around him like a little monkey.
“I love you, I love you, I love you!” you chanted, littering his face with kisses as happy tears pricked your eyes.
Raph was stunned at your reaction to say the least, but as soon as his brain caught up, he grabbed your cheeks and took control. Slanting his mouth over yours, he coaxed your lips open for his tongue to explore. You were just as eager to kiss him back, holding his shoulders tightly as you still lay over him. One of his large hands tangled in your hair as the other drifted down to press on your lower back. Your core ached almost painfully as desire rose swift and strong. How long had you wanted him? How many times had you touched yourself to daydreams of Raphael fucking you in every position you could dream up? Maybe it was too soon, but you were ready to beg him to take you right now. As something thick and long began to harden against your crotch, you surmised that it might not take much to convince him.
“Raph,” you groaned, pulling your head back to stare into his lust-blown pupils. “Please, I want you.”
Raphael was breathing hard, his cock laying heavy between his legs. He couldn’t believe this night. First, you loved him back, and now, fuuuuuck.
“Ya sure bout dis?” he asked with some concern, his hands kneading the rounded globes of your ass unconsciously.
You leaned forward to nip at his lips, then yanked the T-shirt you were sleeping in over your head. You had already removed your bra before going to bed, and he couldn’t help that his eyes were drawn to your tightly hardened nipples.
“I can’t think of a better Christmas gift you could give me than to make me yours,” you confessed. “It’s all I want.”
His hands wrapped around your ribs, thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts as he savored your words.
“Hearing ya say that ya love me, that’s gift enough fer me,” he smiled, “but I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t been dreamin’ bout dis for a long time.”
“Me too,” you breathed, reaching down to tug your leggings and panties off.
Raph looked you over so intensely that your cheeks began to warm. You motioned at his shorts and cleared your throat.
“Aren’t you going to undress?” you asked, pointedly.
He lifted a brow and smirked as he set you beside him on the bed. He stood and shoved his shorts and boxer briefs down to the floor. The monster of a cock that bobbed before you gave you pause. This was it. He was going to ruin you for anyone else and dear god, you were here for it. You licked your lips and you could swear it twitched in response. Scooting to the edge of the bed, you reached out and ran a finger from base to tip along the underside. A rumble that you recognized as a low churr gave you the confidence you needed, and you grasped him in both hands. Leaning forward, you began to corkscrew the base and popped your pout over the tip. You couldn’t take him too far yet, he was so thick! Saliva ran down to soak your fingers as you messily sucked what you could fit in your mouth. A spurt of precum on your tongue just made you suck harder.
“Fuck, yer mouth is incredible,” he moaned. “Too good, ya gotta stop.”
He tugged at your hair until you pulled off reluctantly. You pouted at the pause.
“Hey now, I getta turn, too,” he chuckled.
He pushed your shoulders back until you were laying on the mattress. His hands ran up the back of your legs until he had your ankles in hand. He knelt down, resting them on his shoulders, and breathed in the tangy scent of your arousal. Using just the tip of his tongue, he slid it slowly up your slit. The flavor was like nothing he had ever tasted before and he dove in for more. Lapping and gathering your wetness on his tongue, he slurped and swallowed loudly. Your body shuddered in response. No one else had ever been so enthusiastic about eating your pussy before! You could definitely get used to this.
“Raph, I’m gonna-“ your words became a moan as an orgasm crashed over you in overlapping waves.
He worked his tongue deep within your walls, drawing out your release, and drinking you in. Damn, you were so tight! He worked a finger inside, focusing his licks on your clit. He had to prepare you if you were ever going to take his massive manhood. He kept thrusting his finger, and as soon as you tensed for another release, he eased his other finger inside your pulsing walls.
“It’s too much!” you wailed, head thrashing from side to side.
Raph pressed a firm kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring, “I know ya can take it, baby girl. I ain’t no little human man. I don’t wanna hurt ya when I fuck ya.”
You nodded in understanding and tried to relax. After several minutes, you noticed that your pussy wasn’t squeezing nearly as tightly around his thick digits. The female body truly was an amazing thing. You licked your lips, catching his gaze.
“I-I think I’m ready.”
“Ya sure?” he asked, sliding his fingers out. He sucked your juices from each digit, watching the way you eyed his mouth. “I’m sorry, did ya want a taste?”
Suddenly, his tongue was pushing past your lips. He wrapped you in his arms and then rolled so you were laying atop him once again. Seizing the moment, you rubbed your wet folds up and down his length while you tangled your tongue with his. Sitting up, you angled your hips just right and the tip of his cock nudged your entrance. You placed your hands on his plastron to brace as you took your time easing down. It was a good burning stretch as you took him inch by inch. He held still, his only movement coming from his fingers trailing up and down your thighs. You let out a sigh of relief when you finally rested flush on his groin. You traced the scars on his handsome face as you gave your body time to adjust. You loved it when he was maskless. He grabbed your hand and tenderly kissed each finger before laying your palm against his pebbled cheek. Your heart melted all over again and you felt the need to tell him just what he meant to you as you began to roll your hips.
“I love you…so much,” you whispered, “for so many different reasons.”
He started to speak but you laid a finger over his lips. The easy, leisurely rhythm you set was sweet but he wanted so badly to lose himself in you. Resisting the urge to buck, he resigned himself to letting you keep the reins, for now.
“I love how brave you are and…..and how strong. Mmmm…..Your sense of duty and your loyalty to your loved ones is, ah, commendable. You make me feel…small and delicate…but also, you make me feel like I’m an important part of the team,” you paused as pleasure mounted, rendering your speaking abilities moot.
Raph was getting a lump in his throat listening to you and the last thing he wanted to do was cry during his first time having sex with you. He decided to take advantage of the moment and rolled with you.
“I think if ya can still talk, I ain’t doing it right,” he smirked.
He slid his arms under your back and gripped your shoulders, as you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips. Then Raphael did what he knew he was best at: losing control. Your breath hitched and panted as he fucked you, holding nothing back. Pain and pleasure blended until you couldn’t tell the difference between either and frankly, you didn’t care. It took all your willpower not to scream and wake the whole lair as he sent you careening into your third climax of the night. You clawed his shoulders desperately, mewling into his throat, as the sudden onslaught of his cum sent tingles through your overstimulated cunt. He grunted and growled as he emptied himself, feeling utterly satisfied.
Raphael rolled with you once again, letting you lay half over him, uncaring that his seed was trickling out of you all over his thigh and the bed. You snuggled into his side with a contented sigh, worn out in the best possible way. He kissed your sweaty forehead and brushed your hair off your face.
“I can think of a million things I love about ya,” he murmured, “but I think my favorite is that a beautiful woman like you, can actually love a big, ugly beast like me.”
You smacked his plastron, “Hey now, that’s my boyfriend you’re talking about there, mister. He’s handsome and sexy as hell and I don’t want to hear you say any different.”
He chuckled, “Aight, aight, don’t get yer panties in a twist.”
“Good night, Raph. I love you.”
“Night, tiger. Love you, too.”
♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
Raph awoke to the sound of loud whispers outside his bedroom door. He nudged you and held a finger to his lips as you came awake.
“Don’t you want to know if they slept together?”
“Maybe she isn’t even here!”
“Her purse and jacket are still by the couch. She’s here.”
“Guys, do you think they ‘did it’ last night?”
In unison, the voices whisper-shouted, “Shut up, Mikey!”
Raph rolled his eyes and you giggled.
“We can hear you numbskulls,” he called out.
The voices hushed. Then you grinned wickedly at your new boyfriend.
“We’ll be out in a few minutes!” you added.
There was a multitude of gasps and a loud “I told you guys!” from Mikey. Then the voices drifted away from the door.
“Ya know, they are gonna give us hell,” he chuckled.
You planted a kiss on his snout as you sat up, “Let’em. I got you and nothing can bring me down.”
You looked around for your clothes when a thought struck you.
“Hey, Raph?”
“Hmm?”
“What made you decide to wake me up at 2am to tell me how you feel?”
The sheepish look was back on his face as he pulled his underwear and a pair of sweatpants on. You located your clothing and got dressed, waiting patiently for him to answer. Finally, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, ya know the stories about the lair ghost?”
Your eyes widened as you nodded, “Yeah.”
“Turns out, he’s real. He, uh, talked me inta telling ya that I love ya.”
“Holy shit.”
He shrugged, “That’s the reaction I had, too.”
Once the two of you joined the rest of the family, hand in hand, they wanted to hear how you and the gruff brother ended up together during the night. Raph begrudgingly admitted that he had a little ghostly help. Still a bit skeptical, you brushed the idea off. Until the star on top of the tree suddenly started glowing brighter than it should.
“Guys?!” you hissed.
The others all turned to look with a collective gasp.
Leo was the first to lift his cup of tea, “A toast to Joe! Without whom, we wouldn’t be celebrating the season with our loves.”
“Here, here!” came the cheer as each one lifted whatever drink they had.
Master Splinter watched the apparition smile as Joe soaked up the joy of the moment. He had much to thank the spirit for. Seeing his sons so happy was the greatest gift the old rat could have received.
“Merry Christmas, my friend,” he murmured, lifting his own tea cup and winking, as Joe’s ethereal jaw dropped in surprise. ♥️
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elsewhereuniversity · 4 years
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How would this person do: Greatly interested in strange symbols, ghosts, and a variety of mythologies including Irish and Egyptian. She applies these interests to her schoolwork when she can but otherwise isn't that good of a student, only puts in the effort to pass and continue her classes and lets the pursuit of these other focuses consume the rest of her spare time. Basically lives up to the quote "Everything interested her, but nothing satisfied her completely".
The moon is wrong. The new moonis wrong. It should simply be an absence of moon, the moon in all its silverbeauty merely shadowed, turned away. It should not be beaming darkness downlike the sun’s void.
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vuulpine · 5 years
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11, 17, 22
Odd OC Asks - (Accepting!!)
How expressive is their face? Are they easy to read?
    Very expressive, she usually wears her heart on her sleeve. One doesn’t have to be trained to know what she’s thinking, she’s very open. Chances are, if she’s actively trying to hide how she’s feeling, then something is very wrong.
Could their personality or interests be considered “flighty?” Do they change their mind/interests often?
    Not...really? She can be indecisive or a little trickster at times but overall she’s a very stable and sure presence. She’s a bit afraid of change, and is kinda stuck in her habits. She likes new experiences and travelling but is hesitant to leave her home and her students and break out of her routines.
How do they sneeze (ex: loudly, quietly, openly, into their elbow, hold the sneeze in)?
    Soft and delicate like a little kitten. And into her elbow of course, it’s impolite to go spreading germs around.
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thewinedarksea · 6 years
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archive moodboards | @pepperminty-ghost​
"i prefer privacy, i scorn showing off, and function best without the world's interruptions."
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theflyingfoxy · 4 years
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Where is your dream vacation spot?
Haunted Mansion with you.
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snakebunker · 4 years
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check out this extremely fashionable warlock i was commissioned to draw by @pepperminty-ghost - braytech robes?? a sword?? exo horns?? doesnt get much better than this
Commission info
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jade-masquerade · 3 years
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Jonsa Halloween Day 4: singing to the stranger, begging for his kiss (quotes and monsters)
Written for @jonsa-halloween Day 4: Quotes and Monsters
“Seasons of My Love” ebbed away, replaced by the far more upbeat “Fifty-Four Tuns.” Those on the floor formed two lines again and then looped into two circles that rotated opposite of each other, switching their direction each time the chorus came around again. Even though Sansa had looked forward all night to this particular song and the ribaldry and laughter it never failed to bring about, she clung tight to Jon.
There were a few other couples that did the same, unwilling to separate from their partners or share them with another for even a moment, though Sansa suspected some were also unaware of the change in pace given their deep state of infatuation with each other. The couple of Florian and Jonquil she saw earlier were now entwined with each other and sharing a series of sloppy kisses, while Shella had rucked up her skirts a bit to grind up against the solid leg of her Rainbow Knight, her mouth hung open as he palmed her breasts.
 Sansa glanced away quickly once she realized what they were doing, blushing, even as the wanton part of her that had persuaded her to engage in this masquerade in the first place wondered how that would feel, if it would be as pleasurable as the few times she had permitted her hand to wander beneath her dressing gown or better.  
 She knew what those lining the floor must think, that they were one of those similar pairs too enamored with each other to care about those around them or to give consideration to where they were.   She was surprised when the thought of that thrilled her rather than disturbed her, that the prospect was one that she could contemplate at all.    
 Sansa had thought of how sweet to see Jon once again, but this was more than that. This was heady, overwhelming in a strange, exhilarating kind of way. It all easily could have made her weak-kneed, but Jon’s steady hands held her up as they swayed, so warm she could feel them through the wool of her dress
 She couldn’t help but think Jon had grown handsome in their time apart. He looked nothing like the golden princes she loved in her youth, but rather rugged, with a mystery to him, and an edge and a certain darkness. It didn’t frighten her though; instead there was a familiarity, a comfort with him, that she had lacked with so many of the others she had crossed paths with during her time as Alayne.
 Truthfully, she understood this feeling Jon had mentioned, as silly as it sounded. She had experienced it too, when he swept her into his arms, even before she’d known who he truly was. Many a time she had prayed to the gods, old and new, for a respite from this series of nightmares, for an escape, and when moons had gone by without so much of a sign, she had nearly lost the faith all together, but she found amusement in the irony now that Jon came dressed as the Stranger himself.
 They danced more intimately than Sansa had with any of her previous partners that night, yet she felt no need to pull away. Before she had known, she’d suspected there might have been a glimmer of desire there on Jon’s part, but even then he tried nothing and took no liberties. Jon held her as tight as Walder Upcliff had, she felt his body strong and firm against hers, and his eyes darkened the way she’d noticed with several other men, but those reactions in Jon did not frighten her. Perhaps it was all simple male mechanics; she knew there were no women in the Night’s Watch, after all.
 “You shouldn’t be here!” she hissed, suddenly panicked, glancing down at his Night’s Watch blacks. 
“Nor should you,” he said, his tone a low, gravelly rumble that that made her belly flutter.  
 “I don’t have a choice. Cersei would have had my head, or the Boltons,” she said. “But Father always said deserters…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the rest, but she knew he had grown up hearing the same, even witnessing such justice.  
 He reached up, unlaced the top of his tunic, and pulled down the collar. A couple of raised, healed over wounds marred his chest there—one along his sternum, one even deeper just to the right of that where it surely would have penetrated his heart—and she could feel more beneath his shirt as she drew her hand down his body.    
 She gasped as she traced along them. She supposed anyone else would have called them ugly, but she knew scars meant strength, that they meant survival. “How did you…?”
“I didn’t.” He told her of his brothers’ betrayal, of Ghost, of the red witch. “So I thought that satisfied my vows.”
If he were anyone else, she might have thought it a jest, or perhaps a tale told with the intention to scare her, but she knew better than that of Jon.
 “Do you think me a monster?”
 There are no heroes, she’d thought once. In life, the monsters win. The girl she’d been then had known nothing, having just witnessed the cruelties of life for the first time. Now, though, she knew better: that sometimes heroes did terrible things, and that sometimes those the world considered monsters were not always what they seemed. “No. Of course not. Does that make me a fool?”
 “Not any more than I.”
 Compared to those that surrounded them, countless Ser Artys Arryns, several Symeon Star-Eyes, and even a few Ser Aemon the Dragonknights, perhaps Jon looked to be a monster with his hood up and mask on, hair dark, eyes dark, but appearances could be deceiving. There were some who had dressed as monsters—Balerion the Black Dread, freakish chimeras, vicious hellhounds—but Sansa knew now that more often than not mere men, even those with the handsomest faces, could be far more dangerous than any creatures from the kinds of stories Old Nan used to tell.
 “I’ve never known a monster to be so kind.”
 He smiled at that, and she was struck again by how much he had changed and how little he resembled the brooding boy she remembered.  “You don’t know all of what I’ve done.”
 She shrugged. “We’ve all done what we need to survive. And do monsters not usually have skin icy to the touch, or mottled and scaled?”
 “Old Nan’s stories always seemed to suggest so,” he said, the corners of his mouth pulling up again.  
 “Yours is quite warm,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat.
 Sansa glanced away, but she felt his gaze stay on her all the same. She wondered if she should say more, or if he would think her the monster instead if she admitted to finding him comely before she had recognized him, and even after, even now, she found herself rather taken by his looks.    
 “Who are those men?”
 Sansa scanned across the floor. Alyssa and Harry had disappeared, and she desperately hoped she would not be expected to play along that she’d lost her maidenhead to him or performed something else more perverse for him this night later on when she was compelled to take up the mantle of Alayne again. An unidentifiable man had his face buried in Myranda Royce’s bosom as she giggled. And then her eyes fell upon Ser Shadrich standing on the edges of his tip toes to whisper in the ear of Lothor Brune.
“Littlefinger’s men.” She turned away quickly, but evidently not fast enough, and she could feel the growl in Jon’s chest when he met their stare. A tremble went through her, and she was grateful for the support of Jon’s strong arms.
 “We should leave,” he said.
“No, we can’t,” she said. “They’ll only know something is out of sorts and follow.”
“At least pull up the hood of your cloak,” he said, pressing his cheek right up against hers so his words would have no chance of being caught by another.
“My hair will make no matter if they can still see my face,” she said, and she wondered if Jon could feel the pounding of her heart, the fear slipping down her spine.
“Sansa…” He turned so her back faced them, but her skin still prickled with the familiar feeling of their eyes boring into her. If they had reason to suspect, if they decided to near, if they drew close enough to snatch her mask…
 “Kiss me, please,” she pleaded. She wondered if he would think she’d lost her mind, wondered what it would take to convince him. “Just kiss me.”
 He flicked his eyes over to where Petyr’s men stood again, and then, so quickly she didn’t even have time to close her eyes, he pressed his lips to hers.
 She snapped them shut, if only to block out the world around them. She expected Jon to linger there for a few moments, still and tepid, just long enough for them to lose interest and get swept up in ale or other matters. But then he began to move, slowly at first, and then she discovered that Jon’s kisses were nothing like the ones she had been imagining, nothing like the ones she had experienced before, kisses that were stiff and perfunctory, cool and pepperminty.
 No, these kisses were hot and hard and fast until they became deep and full of an intensity in which she could easily find herself carried away, and suddenly there was nothing strange about him and oddly enough nothing strange about this either. She was merely a lady kissing a man she loved, and she sank into this sense of familiarity, desire stirring inside of her, her body responding before she could think of what this meant.  
 When they broke away and she looked up at last, Ser Shadrich and Ser Lothor had vanished, but the heat had not gone from Jon’s eyes.
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artificialqueens · 4 years
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Magnetic Moon (Jankie) - Mumu
A/N: My poetry roots showed in this one. It���s inspired by Magnetic Moon - TIffany Young. Read it on AO3 here.
Summary: Some nights are hard for Jackie, but Jan makes it better. (or: Jackie stops fighting the moon’s pull.)
The first time Jackie stays over it’s because she’s lonely. Her roommates have both gone back home for Christmas break, so it’s just her and her blankets and an empty apartment and the cold air that comes through the gap in the window.
Jackie doesn’t know why but the tears find their way down her cheeks, cold and salty, and there’s a metallic taste in her mouth. She can feel the unease brewing in her gut, her breaths getting shorter and her vision going staticky, so she does the only thing she can think of: she goes over to Jan’s.
The blonde girl doesn’t ask questions when she opens the door to find Jackie there. She just takes one look at Jackie’s shivering frame and ushers her in, wrapping her in a thick coat and bringing Jackie her signature “magic hot chocolate.” The name makes Jackie smile softly through the fog in her head.
Jan stays with her through the night, arms wrapped protectively around her, the tv playing at a low volume so that it’s not totally quiet. Jan knows Jackie doesn’t like it when it’s quiet. Her thoughts get too loud.
When Jackie wakes up in the morning, her mug of hot chocolate is sitting at her feet, cold, and the marshmallows are melting.
The sunlight makes everything too real. She splashes her face with cold water in Jan’s bathroom and slips out, mind already working double time at the mere thought of how much study time she missed. When Jan catches her eye in Psych 101 the next day, she pretends not to notice.
Jackie’s fine. She always is.
The second time it’s because Jackie stays too late at the library by accident and misses curfew. She’s still carrying her textbook and notebook when she knocks on Jan’s dorm door, praying that Jan’s roommate is out.
Jan lets her in. She holds Jackie’s hair back when she throws up into her trash can, covers Jackie’s shaking hands with her own and sings Ariana Grande lyrics to her softly. They might have some kind of meaning, but Jackie’s too drained to understand.
She still doesn’t ask questions, and Jackie’s grateful for that. Nighttime is always hard for her. Something about the crisp air and moonlight always seems to make her feel so insignificant, like everything she’s done isn’t worth anything at all.
Jackie doesn’t sleep that night, but Jan stays up with her anyways, braiding her hair and then unbraiding it again for hours. They don’t speak, the atmosphere too sacred, both of them too worried about spooking each other. Jackie swallows over the fuzzy feeling in her mouth and the half-formed words in her throat.
In the morning she swishes coffee to get rid of the remnants of those unripe confessions, relishing in the way the ice clinks against her teeth and goosebumps rise on her skin. There are three unread texts from a number Jackie doesn’t have saved in her phone, but one that she’s memorized. It’s Jan, and Jackie presses delete without reading them.
She skips her classes, cramming for her next exam in her apartment on her own instead. She doesn’t eat, basking in the lightheaded feeling for the rest of the day. When she feels sleepy, Jackie presses tea bags to the purple skies under her eyes and rubs lemon balm on both her wrists to get rid of the peach smell of Jan’s perfume.
She tells herself she can’t afford to go back to Jan’s again, not when it’s getting harder and harder to leave.
Jackie ends up at Jan’s two weeks later anyway. It’s raining outside, and she doesn’t have an excuse. Does it even matter why she’s here anymore?
Jan pulls her into her lap and lets her cry, lets Jackie be childish and make grabby hands at her every time she shifts positions, scared that Jan will leave.
Jan’s skin is warm against hers and Jackie likes it, likes how she feels safe in the familiar cloud of Jan’s scent, likes the smoothness of Jan under her fingertips. Jackie wants her over her skin.
“Jan,” Jackie whispers. Her voice comes out hoarse, and she regrets speaking as soon as the other girl’s name passes her lips.
Jan’s fingers still. There are a few moments of silence, and Jackie feels cement start to set in her veins.
Jackie turns her head to face Jan, and their lips collide softly. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in a rush. Jan sweeps a hand over to the back of her neck, fingertips sliding against Jackie’s hair.
Jackie’s convinced her skin has gone translucent where Jan’s touched her, that all the colour has been leached from the section and if she were to hold a mirror up that spot you would be able to see a spider web of veins, all the purple and blue and red in all its glory: the inner workings of herself laid bare for Jan to see.
Jan’s free hand falls from her hair and the feeling makes Jackie panic, makes her come back down to earth and slide off of Jan’s lap.
She feels the soreness build at the back of her throat, the familiar shaking of her hands when she goes to gather her stuff. Jan’s saying something, voice soft and gentle like she’s speaking to a toddler, and Jackie can’t make out any of the words.
She’s out of the apartment as quickly as she got there, barefoot on the dirt lawn. She can’t suppress the shudder that racks her whole body when the wind envelopes her. Jackie’s cold without Jan’s skin over hers, and the thought makes her hurl Jan’s hot chocolate up into the bushes.
The streetlights are reflected in the puddles on the ground, and Jackie catches her reflection in them too. She’s not sure whether to laugh or sob at the sight.
Her hair is wet, her clothes completely soaked. The sky hasn’t fallen, and the world is still turning, and the revelation makes her even more horrified.
Jan’s chased her outside, trying to get close to her. Jan’s hands go to hold her, to lead her back inside, and Jackie flinches away, rambling something about I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
At some point, Jan gives up and just stands there. The moonlight accents her cheekbones, backlights her until she looks some sort of angel. Jackie can’t meet her eyes.
“Stay,” Jan says.
Jackie shakes her head, feels her whole body tremble with a sob. She bites it back, choking on the pain when her teeth sink into her left cheek.
“Stay,” Jan says again.
The rain pours down on them. The two feet between the two girls feels so far now, like the ground’s opening between them, cracking and heaving until they are continents away from each other. Jackie’s bangs are stuck to her forehead, dribbling a thin stream of water into her eyes. The feeling of Jan’s hand in hers has begun to fade, and the smell of mud overpowers the peach that usually trails Jackie after each visit.
Jan goes back inside.
It doesn’t hurt like Jackie’s expecting it to, not when the rain is heavy enough that she can convince herself it’s washed everything away, even the last wisps of whatever they were.
A month passes.
Jackie goes to the grocery store and buys a bottle of wine. She doesn’t mean to drink it all, but there’s no one to share it with. She falls asleep with stained lips, tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth like the tension might keep the tears at bay, body curled into an absent form. Her pillow’s too cold, and her blanket too warm.
She’s been skipping her lectures, grades only kept afloat by her previous scores. She trails the campus like a ghost, afraid that touching anything will make it all too real.
Another month.
It’s been a year since that first visit. Jackie feels hysteria bubbling against her teeth every time she sees a flash of blonde hair. Sometimes she dreams of Jan’s voice, softly singing, and afterwards, she wakes up with sticky cheeks.
Maybe they’re just out of time. And words.
Jackie doesn’t know how she ends up at Jan’s that night. They click into place, and nothing shatters.
Jan’s hand snakes to her waist, her body on top of Jackie’s. They’re on the rooftop, under the night sky. The air is sharp, and Jackie’s delirious off of their gentle sin.
Look, she wants to call out to the universe, I’m still here. Why haven’t you struck me down yet?
She couldn’t leave right now if she tried.
“Stay,” Jan says, when they’re done. (Or undone, Jackie supposes.)
It’s not a question this time. The moon is softer tonight, and something pepperminty and midnight blue is blooming under Jackie’s fingernails. Jan runs a fingertip over her bottom lip. Two bass notes sound in Jackie’s head, and then static.
When the morning comes, Jackie’s still pressed against Jan’s chest.
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amintyghost · 4 years
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pepperminty-ghost -> amintyghost
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editcrimes · 4 years
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Rules: Look up (your name) + core + aesthetic on Pinterest. Pick 9 images and arrange them into your own name moodboard. Tag others you wanna see!
Tagged: Stolen from @pepperminty-ghost
Tagging: @mogadeer @bonbonni 
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winekita · 5 years
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I was tagged by @frejamagda (whose tag thingy doesn't wanna work for some reason)
Rules: Put your library on shuffle and say the first 10 songs that pop up, then tag 10 people
1. Swallowtail Butterfly ( 燕尾蝶 ) - Mayday
2. This is My Idea - The Swan Princess soundtrack
3. Hoof and Lap - Emilie Autumn (Alleluia! The Devil's Carnival)
4. It's Over Isn't It - Caleb Hyles SU cover
5. A Story Told - The Count of Monte Cristo concept album
6. The Devil Went Down to Georgia - The Charlie Daniels Band
7. How Do Humans Live (Live) - Alan Cumming
8. Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At the Disco
9. Cookies - Ninja Sex Party
10. I'll Make a Man Out of You - Mulan soundtrack
Tagging: @crow821 @loonylaluna @mama-sally @trashburgerbiz @solunas-insomnia @theflyingfoxy @pepperminty-ghost @generalpitchiner @imperiuswrecked @potato-frenzy
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velvet-apricots · 6 years
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pepperminty-ghost replied to your post “I think i may have rejection sensitive dysphoria..”
Same hat, man
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rainyday-deer · 4 years
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Lichen, frog, rainwater, thicket
Questions from the forest 
Lichen and frog already answered!
rainwater 🌧 - what’s your favorite sound? 
Rain, actually! Or the sound of the ocean.
thicket 🌳 - how close do you live to a forest? have you ever explored it? 
/Cries in desert
The closest forest-forest is up north in the Flagstaff/Sedona-y part of Arizona. I haven’t really been there too often tho, and certainly haven’t explored.
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vuulpine · 5 years
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MUSE MUN AS A DEITY
RULES: think carefully about your character & their development through their journey (canon or oc) within their story. fill out the chart & tag whoever you want! multi-muses, feel free to pick any of your characters—just a few, or all of them. please repost so the dash isn’t clogged with reblogs.
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Rose.
GOD(DESS) OF: simple pleasures and optimism ASSOCIATED WITH: good food, warm welcomes, sleepy afternoons, and gentle rain. SACRED PLANTS: lily of the valley, strawberries. SACRED STONES/GEM(S): Amber and amethyst.  SACRED ANIMAL(S): bats, dogs, cows COLORS: cherry red, plum, and gold SCENTS: vanilla, apples, fresh snickerdoodles ACCEPTED OFFERINGS/WAYS TO HONOR: cooking with friends, making blanket forts, being kind to animals, songs around a campfire, fingers threading through hair, sharing blankets.
stolen from: @pepperminty-ghost
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kawaii-pigeon · 6 years
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I was tagged by!! @magic-witch-princess
If i were a month id be: October!
If I were a day of the week id be: Saturday
If I were a planet id be: PLUTO! (SHUT UP, ITS A PLANET TO ME)
If I were a sea animal id be: those lil fishies that pluck parasites off the big fishies, or a eel
If I was a god/goddess id be: Hades (im a dork who just gets stuck with bad jobs)
If I was a piece of furniture id be: a little desk
If I was a gemstone id be: a opal
If i was a flower id be: a dandelion!
If i was a kind of weather id be: a gentle snow storm
If I was a color id be: Lavender?
If I was a emotion id be: Kindness (or Spite)
If I was a fruit id be: a tomato ?
If I was a sound id be: sad puppy whine
If i was a element id be: water
If I was a place id be: a empty forest
If i was a mythical creature id be: a tiny griffen
If I was a taste id be: sweet and burning :3
If i was an object id be: a sketchpad
If i was a body part id be: a spine! (I got yo back)
If i was a song id be: Fade Away (by breaking Benjamin) OR I dreamed a dream (all i know is the glee version)
If i was a type of shoe id be: a old pair of sneakers
I tag @pepperminty-ghost @trash-banned @thekeatoncadet
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theflyingfoxy · 5 years
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RULES: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.
AIR
I have small hands • I love the night sky • I watch small animals and birds when I pass them by • I drink herbal tea • I wake to see dawn • The smell of dust is comforting • I’m valued for being wise • I prefer books to music • I meditate • I find joy in learning new truths from the world around me.
FIRE
I don’t have straight hair • I like to wear ripped jeans and overalls • I play an organized sport • I love dogs • I am not afraid of adventure • I love to talk to strangers • I always try new foods • I enjoy road trips • Summer is my favorite season • My radio is always playing.
WATER
I wear bracelets on my wrists • I love the bustle of the city • I have more than one set of piercings • I read poetry • I love the sound of a thunderstorm • I love the sound of the rain• I want to travel the world • I sleep past midday most days • I love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs • I rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia • I see emotions in colors, not words.
EARTH
I wear glasses/contacts • I enjoy doing the laundry • I am a vegetarian or vegan • I have an excellent sense of time • My humor is very cheerful • I am a valued advisor to my friends• I believe in true love • I love the chill of mountain air • I’m always listening to music • I am highly trusted by the people in my life.
AETHER
I go without makeup in my daily life • I make my own artwork • I keep on track of my tasks and time • I always know true north • I see beauty in everything • I can always smell flowers • I smile at everyone I pass by • I always fear history repeating itself • I have recovered from a mental disorder • I can love unconditionally.
stolen from @pepperminty-ghost​
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