animecrush7

Gotham Academy was in some sort of weird chaos that could only mean one thing- Bruce Wayne had finally decided to send his son, Damian, to your school. “I think I’m going to start hiding in the library for the next few weeks.” You mumbled to yourself as you shut your locker and looked over your shoulder to see the hoard of people that you now associated with Damian Wayne walking down the corridor. You felt bad for the guy, he looked very uncomfortable with the amount of people that were walking with him, but you were always trying your hardest to avoid those people, so you generally got out fast whenever you saw him coming.

"You're cute." (Y/N) glances at Damian and blinks. Staring at him in absolute oddity, (Y/N) wonders if he could be sick or maybe not feeling well at that moment, because the words that had escaped his mouth were absolutely alien to her ears. "Are you okay Damian?" (Y/N) asks, completely forgetting about the chess game laying in front of them. It wasn't often Damian Wayne invited people over to his Manor, but it was even less often that he invited someone to play a game of chess with him since he considered everyone but himself to be 'unintelligent' or something along that line. So I suppose in a way, being invited to spend a day with Damia

The year following that night you shared with Levi had left you surprisingly optimistic. You had begun to focus on your work much more, earning a couple of promotions in the process. You made sure to only use the money for whatever you needed and stored the rest in your bank. Of course, you weren’t strong enough to drop your bad habits cold turkey so – shamefully – you’d admit to probably spending a bit more on alcohol than you should’ve. Nonetheless, you refused to spiral out of control. You kept your memories of that night fresh in your mind so that you’d never allow yourself to sink to that level again.

You were such a filthy, rotten person. You would tell yourself this every time you stared at your reflection in the alcohol currently residing in your glass. This brothel was such a filthy, rotten place. And it was perfectly suited for you. You deserved nothing more or less than the watered down scotch and disease-ridden whores you paid for. Why were you like this? Why did you keep coming here? It was like a sickness, this place. It kept you down in a malicious cycle that made it practically impossible for you to get out of. But, it was the only place you could go where no one judged you. They couldn’t judge you. Their job was to be a

“Actors are agents of change. A film, a piece of theater, a piece of music, or a book can make a difference. It can change the world.” These words were imprinted on a little mirror you kept in your bag. You mother gave it to you when you moved away to New York in pursuit of your acting career. Naturally, the road started rough and seemingly hopeless; often working extra hours at the cafe, accepting insignificant roles in movies, filming stupid, over the top commercials. You even reduced yourself to the lowest, shameless act of sleeping with a few directors to obtain roles you really wanted. So desperate you were to achieve your dr

The sound of women cheering from the audience reverberated throughout the elegant made strip club as a empty soul performed it's performance.  The man did not mind taking off his clothes. No. The man did not even mind the dirty cheers of "you're so sexy" or "I want to have your babies" that was made from his fans. All the while there was one thing he did not like. That thing was the audacity of courageous women trying to grope and trying their best to sexual harass him after work. How dare they? The barely even knew aside from the fact that he was handsome stripper. Levi Ackerman is his name. A name that drove the sexual crazed

Prologue You and Mikey were racing each other on Super Mario Kart. He was in the lead with you on his tail. Luckily, the next item box you ran into had a shell. You used it and it hit Mikey’s player and you ended up winning! “Whoo!” You cheered, throwing your arms in the air. “Nooooo!” Mikey dramatically groaned. “Best 25 out of 30!” He challenged. “Actually, I think I’m going to take a quick break.” You said placing the controller down and rising up from the couch. In the kitchen, as you were pouring a cup of (favorite drink), you heard, “(Y/N)?” You turned your head to