I am open to requests! Please if you want to see something from me don’t be afraid to send me an ask, my inbox is wide open.
Remember That All My Characters that are with the Reader are almost always 18 or older I don't want to be attacked with "He's a minor!" or "She's a minor!" My fics have characters that are always 18 or older unless specified otherwise.
Here is the Masterlist of all my Fics!
ROTTMNT
Leonardo:
More Than a Concussion - Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Future Leo - If Only
Donatello:
Thirty Days - Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Ghosted
Mutant Mayhem
The Boys - Falling for You
If you’re interested in my archive of stuff on my Google Docs let me know, I’d love to release them to the world someday!
REALLY FUN FACT for big cats cheetahs are fucking docile as shit
my grandfather ran a cheetah sanctuary in south africa and he’d just lie with them and sleep among them and they’d rub against him and chirp at him they’re big fucking babies
Another Fun Fact: Cheetahs are incredibly nervous animals. One of the (many) reason’s they’re going extinct is that cheetahs are so sensitive and nervous, some of them are literally too nervous to breed. Others will breed, but stress themselves out so much, they’ll lose their cubs.
So zoos with breeding programs had to figure out how to make cheetahs comfortable enough to first of all, get laid and secondly - not spazz themselves into miscarrying.
So what’d they do?
They gave the cheetah’s their very own Service Dogs!
The dogs make them feel safe, protected and secure!
Also! Cheetahs are not in fact classified as big cats, they are simply very large lesser cats, due to the fact that they purr, meow, chirp, and cannot roar. Also many cheetahs have learned to recognize wildlife photographers are friends and not foes, so they will just come up to people and be friendly occasionally as pictured at the top of the chain. Some will even leave their Cubs with photographers to look after while they hunt. So. Yeah. Cheetahs are great
this works because cheetahs are actually fairly social animals, and they look to members of their group for context on how worried they should be about any given Situation. but since cheetahs are also nervous social animals, they can work each other into an anxiety spiral pretty easily over things like “being in an enclosed habitat” and “there’s a guy over there”.
so by introducing a dog as a member of the group, the cheetahs will now look to the dog for context clues on how worried they should be! and the dog Is Not Worried At All, Thanks, so the cheetahs think everything must be chill even if they were personally unsure about it, and they stop being so freaked out about literally everything.
Reader is an actress and meets Vincent in the early 1940s, both still young, no huge mistakes under their belts. But what starts as an infatuation turns into a romance that follows her deep into Hell.
A/n: I've had this worm in my brain for months and now I finally figured out how to get this shit in writing yay!
The air was thick with smoke from cigarettes, filling your lungs and making your head dizzy as you sat among fellow Hollywood stars. No matter how many times you attend these kinds of parties, you never enjoy them. Everyone is so fake, biting back harsh words with poisoned compliments.
Your manager, Michael, showed you off like some prized possession at each event, making sure you’re dressed in tight fitting gowns to expose every curve of your body. Some men drooled and others rolled their eyes. Women either used you to gain popularity through ‘friendship’ or they hated you entirely.
One specific woman was Elaine Ford, an actress like you, quickly gaining fame in many upcoming films. The two of you had a rivalry, her words rather than yours, attending auditions together and even starring in a romantic movie as part of a love triangle.
Initially you tried to get along, but the busty brunette deflected every attempt you made. “We will never be friends sweetheart,” You remember how her voice dripped with hatred, her eyes dark with pure anger. “We are rivals in this industry, nothing more.” You didn’t bother trying after that, Elaine made her opinion of you clear.
This party buzzed with voices, drunk or high, all talking too loudly and way too close together. You felt claustrophobic and the hold Michael had on your arm made your skin burn uncomfortably. You let your eyes wander, unable to do much else and that's when you see him.
You immediately notice his mismatched eyes, a stunning set of green and blue behind square framed glasses. His dark hair slicked back and his neatly tailored suit draws you in. Once your eyes meet you look away, a flush dusting your cheeks.
“Isn't that right darling?” Michael coos, his voice sickeningly sweet as he squeezes your arm painfully tight when you don't reply fast enough. “Darling?” He repeats, his jaw tense as he stares at you.
“Uh yes, right,” You nod, forcing a smile, trying to remain sweet and obedient in public.
You tried to find the man again as Michael paraded you around, but those eyes never met yours anymore that night.
~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~
The next time you saw those stunning eyes was at a restaurant. It was a stuffy place, the velvet seats creating a texture hell against your bare back. You were having a small get together with some ‘friends’ as a celebration for the newest role you landed in a big movie production.
You couldn't focus on anything other than those eyes, the unique nose and the smooth pale skin that seemed to be burned into your memory. Part of you wondered why he looked so familiar, but you couldn't place him on any set or audition. Something in your mind insisted that you knew him, knew his voice, but the answer was nowhere in sight.
This ‘celebration’ turned more into these so called friends getting drunk off their asses. You nursed the same flute of champagne the entire time, the lukewarm drink growing less appealing as your mind kept focusing on that face.
You excused yourself from the table, deciding that this little party wasn't worth it if you can't even focus on drowning in a decent drink. You shrug on your fur coat, the warmth feeling heavenly against your exposed skin as you step outside. You wait for a valet to bring your car around, shivering in the chilly air.
“Need a ride doll?” A smooth and strangely familiar voice breaks you from your thoughts. You turn around, a sigh of irritation puffing around you.
Your breath hitches as those green and blue orbs meet yours. Your brain short circuits as you try to process the fact that this alluring stranger is talking to you. You blink once. Twice.
“Did your brain freeze out here sweetheart?” He asks, raising a dark brow in amusement and a little concern.
“W-what?” You reply, shaking your head as you try to focus, every molecule that could possibly form a thought leaving your body.
“Do you need a ride?” The man repeats, gesturing off to the packed parking lot.
Your cheeks grow warm, certainly a bright red as you come to terms with how stupid you must look right now. “Oh no…I have my own car,” you murmur, gesturing awkwardly to the valet stand, “You know the whole ‘let us park your car' thing…um..” You cringe the more you talk, the world's most awkward word vomit spilling from your lips.
“Ah of course a pretty woman like you has her own car,” He purrs, the tone sending a shiver down your spine. Or maybe that was the cold. You weren't really sure, your heart was pounding too loud in your ears to really know.
You hold out your hand, “I'm Y/n L/n.”
“I know,” He replied, the smirk on his face sending butterflies wild in your stomach. “I've seen some of your work, I mean.” He let's go of your hand and places his hand in his suit jacket pockets.
“Oh …..oh thank you,” Your cheeks feel impossibly warm, embarrassment and attraction flooding your body like a tidal wave. “I-I feel like I recognize you from somewhere,” You admit, wringing your hands together. You feel guilt squeezing your heart when he clearly knows your work and you can't even place his voice somewhere.
“Vincent Whittman, I do the weather in the early morning,” He gives you a tight smile, “Trust us with your weather!” Vincent puts on a showman tone, that makes your memory click things in place.
“Oh my gosh that's you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your coat as headlights come around the parking lot. “I love listening to it when I'm alone and ya know…not doing any Hollywood stuff that early.”
Vincent's face lights up at the recognition, a genuine smile on his face. “Awe you listen to lil’ ol’ me?”
His grin sends something down your spine, a feeling you would rather not acknowledge right now or ever, probably. The odds are thankfully in your favor as the approaching headlights stop at the valet stand. The attendant bows, “Ma’am, your vehicle.”
You nod at the attendant and then smile at Vincent, waving him goodbye as you walk over to the driver's side, “See you around weather boy.”
Driving home feels like a blur after that, Vincent's stupidly handsome face burning into your memory. That roman nose and mismatched eyes, smooth pale skin and that stray, dark curl of hair hanging over his forehead is making you feel things. Things you haven't felt since grade school.
You don't register that you've pulled into your driveway and just sit in a comfortable silence. You eventually shut the engine off and take your gaze off the wall leading to your house. You didn't even like the place, feeling too big and getting too stuffy for just you to live in. Maybe Vincent could live with you.
You pause at your door, eyes widening at the direction your thoughts took you. “What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself before shaking your head and stepping inside. The heat kept inside your house welcomes you but all you can focus on is the messed up thought in your head.
You just met Vincent, and now you're dreaming of getting cozy with him? Are you really becoming a hormone crazy teen again?
You hang up your coat and head to your room to take off the caked on makeup and heavily pinned hair. Once that's done, you slip into a simple silk nightgown, the soft blue fabric a welcome relief to the tight dress you were wearing.
Now in bed, you reflect on everything that happened for the past few weeks. You couldn't get those heterochromic eyes out of your head and now you have a name for them. You thought that maybe having an identity would cease those drifting thoughts, but you've discovered it's only made it worse. Especially since those eyes are attached to a ridiculously handsome man.
You lay back onto your mountain of pillows, staring at the ceiling while your heart races despite being completely relaxed. You press your palms into your eyes, groaning as you sit up again. You stare at your hands, mind spiraling.
Here you are, a twenty three years old actress acting like a school girl with a crush. Crush. That's what this is and nothing more. Just a simple little crush that will vanish quickly and everything will be back to normal, like it always has been.
