#event time!

Check, check, this is androidcharles telling you guys about my new secret Valentine’s day event! A fandom I was once a part of did this a while back and I thought it was a pretty swanky idea, so I thought I’d host a secret Valentine’s myself. This’ll be the first Secret Santa thing that I’ve ever hosted, so please keep in mind I will make mistakes! Here’s a deep dive in the scheduled events I have lined up (psst, under the read more! ↓):

[[Special event! Wish has been plushified!]]

Oh. My. Fucking. God-

WELL-

WELL-

Thank y’all for following me and loving my works! (Even though I haven’t been active due to writer’s block and not knowing what to fucking write-)

So, I’ll do a little celebratory event! So, drop in the ask box what ideas you might have and when I choose one, I’ll start the event!

Again, thank you so much! Please don’t be afraid to request for things, it’s the best way to improve my writing!

Hazel sits there blankly- emotionless with white eyes. She sits and sits.

------------------------------------------------------------- "Befriending an evil spirit- acting sinfully towards others- swearing?! Hazel. I'm afriad it's going to take a lot longer than it should to become a fully fledged angel I'm sorry but I'm going to have to drop your status to fallen." "N-no! Sir I'm sorry! I'll try harder I promise!" Her halo and wings turn darker. Wings becoming back as her halo is a dim grey. She stares at them. "Leave"

--------------------------------------------------------------- "....... I-I'm..... I'm unpure-"

She sits there, crying to herself. (OK SO I'MMA DO AN EVENT CUZ YEAH! Hazel has 'fallen' from her angel status- and probably won't get it back for a while.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: God

Age:????

Sexuality:????

Personality: High and Mighty (This is not accurate and I'm doing this as a joke please take no offense to this)

...look I know you’re probably asking yourself what the hell is that title but I couldn’t come up with something better okay xD

Well well, as you may or may not know, the heat over here is slowly killing and draining me and my imagination, so I decided to take a break from regular requests for a bit to do something else, which you’ll hopefully enjoy as well xD!

Tomorrow morning (german time!) I will be reblogging the famous NSFW alphabet and open requests for it again! Basically until my askbox is bursting with your thirsty desires :D! 

Of course I will make an announcement for when the event is over, and once I answered everything it’s back to the regular requests waiting in my inbox^^!

So have a nice day and remember- starting tomorrow I’ll be waiting for your thirsty desires ;)

A/N: Here’s the fic me and @colormemeow wrote together in celebration of our 300 milestone!

Warnings: None!

You had woken up that morning, unenthusiastically expecting an empty apartment. It had been unbearably boring ever since Batman had temporarily grounded you from patrol.  But instead of the usual empty house, you found Damian, flopped unceremoniously onto your couch, looking like he’d been hit by, well, a Batmobile.

“Um… Hello?” you greeted and walked over to the sofa, kneeling so that you could make eye contact with him.

“Good morning,” he replied, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

This had happened before, so the shock factor had worn off slightly.

“You, my friend, are getting blood all over my couch,” you pointed out.

‘It’s not my blood,” he tried to reassure you.

“That’s not any better! Now, why don’t we get you out of that uniform?"

“Beloved, are you attempting to flirt with me?” Damian responded, smirking.

“If you think that this is flirting, you’re out of your damn mind. I’m saying that you smell bad and I want you to shower, so get off of my couch,” you said, quickly pecking him on the nose.

He huffed in annoyance before rolling off the couch and making his way to your bathroom.

“Your shampoo is in there!” you called from the linen closet, where you were trying to see if Damian had left any clothes at your house.

Damian stood in the shower, looking at your bottles of soap. On the shower shelf, there was a wide array of soaps, including the shampoo you had gotten for him when he stayed over. However, a different bottle caught his eye.

Damian walked out into your bedroom, to find the clothes you had laid out, for him. He raised an eyebrow at the choice, but chose not to complain. A few minutes later he walked out of your room wearing grey sweats and an undersized black t-shirt. Damian noticed a pink sweatshirt sitting on a chair. He stopped to consider his dignity before putting on the sweatshirt. It fit and was fairly warm, so he didn’t mind the color.

You were lying on your sofa, snacking on a bowl of strawberries that you had gotten for yourself while waiting for Damian to get out of the shower. There was a loud thumping sound, followed by a string of curses.

“Don’t you dare die on me!” you shouted from the couch, trying to make sure Damian didn’t kill himself in your shower.

About ten minutes later, you were met with Damian, draping himself gracelessly over you, Damian’s damp hair was pressed into the crook of your neck. “Hello,” you greeted for the second time that morning. Before Damian could reply, you spoke again. “Did you use my shampoo?”

“It smelled like strawberries, I couldn’t help it, beloved,” he said into your neck, tangling his legs with yours.

“Smells nice on you. And is that my hoodie?” You moved one hand to run your fingers through his hair.

“Maybe.”

“Pink’s a good color on you,” you remarked sarcastically.

Damian hummed in response, and shifted so that he could kiss you, with his arms on either side of your head. He gave you several short pecks on the lips. “Marry me,” he mumbled, his face hovering over yours.

“I’m not that insane,” you replied, smirking and moving your head up to give him another kiss.

“I’m serious,” he responded, but his phone started to ring. He moved one arm to pull it out of the pocket of his sweats. “It’s my father, beloved. I probably have to go,” he sighed.

“No,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Stay.”

“Beloved, I-” he stopped when he saw your pout. “Fine,” he muttered. “But what if it’s serious?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” you begged, kissing him once again.

“Beloved, it is getting increasingly difficult to say no to you,” Damian said, furrowing his brow.

“I can make it worth your while,” you giggled, popping a strawberry into your mouth.

“You’re too good for this world, beloved,” he chuckled, then pressed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His arms returned to either side of your head as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands were on his chest, and the kiss broke for him to hastily pull off the pink sweatshirt and t-shirt.

Your position changed slightly, and now Damian’s knees were on either side of your hips, and he had your arms pinned above your head.

His lips were rough against yours and he kissed you fiercely.

You and Damian were both too preoccupied to hear the soft thunk coming from your fireplace.

It wasn’t until Bruce loudly cleared his throat that you both turned to look. There he was, in the full Batman suit.

Damian jerked off of the couch, landing on the floor. You heard a string of arabic cursing before he collected himself. “H-hello, father!” he exclaimed, looking absolutely mortified, his face almost as pink as the sweatshirt he’d been wearing. “It’s a bit early for you to be out, isn’t it?” Damian tried, attempting to avoid Bruce’s interrogation.

“Damian, would you like to explain to me why you elected not to report back to the cave after patrol last night?” Bruce questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “And explain to me what this is,” he continued, gesturing to the two of you in your disheveled state.

You were practically petrified. Having your adoptive father-figure walk in on you and his son making out was not a comfortable situation.

“Father I am nineteen. I might remind you that I’m an adult,” Damian argued.

Bruce sighed, looking as if he was making a decision. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m too young to be having grandchildren,” he muttered to himself, making your face go bright red. In another instant, he was gone.

“I should probably go, beloved,” Damian reasoned, getting up and starting to change into his uniform.

“Yeah, I guess,” you admitted, sighing in defeat and standing up.

“I’ll be back later tonight after patrol,” he told you, walking over and taking your hands in his.

“Just do one last thing and kiss me,” you replied, smiling gently.

He nodded and kissed you softly. “Just so you know, beloved, I was serious about marrying you.”