Reblog If Your Name Isn't Amanda.

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!

We’ll find you Amanda.

I see it’s been a little bit since your last posts. Just wondering if you are actively taking requests?

I am ALWAYS taking requests. Please, nothing makes me happier than seeing my inbox be flooded with multiple requests. I want to see it burst. I love opening up my little tumblr app and seeing all the ideas you guys have. PLEASE send me requests and asks and whatever other things pop into your precious little heads.

Nightwing x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None. Its fairly gen. No actual romance I just had this thought that made me laugh.

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The sound of your living room window being forced open was what woke you. Heart hammering in your chest as your hand went to the baseball bat you kept tucked away by your bed. Years of living in Gotham had made you hypervigilant of what sounds your apartment made and where. You knew for a fact that your living room window had been locked and that the sound of snapping wood had to have been the frame being forced open. The window lock itself was flimsy and you had brought it up multiple times with the landlord only to be shrugged off. Now you weren’t sure whether to feel petrified or triumphant that your concerns had been justified. Throwing back the blankets you stood slowly and raised the bat as you began creeping towards the open bedroom door. Out in the hall everything was still pitch black and you cursed yourself for not at least checking the time on the alarm by your bed. Your late night intruder hadn’t bothered to close the window behind them and the pale light of the moon and soft glow of the streetlights below gave you just enough light to see. A figure had collapsed on your couch, a hand dangling from where it awkwardly cushioned a head. As you cautiously shuffled closer you could make out the reflective glow of blue along the fingers. Your poor heart nearly collapsed in relief when you realized it was Nightwing, the resident vigilante of Bludhaven. 

When you had moved to Bludhaven a year ago you had assumed it would involve a lot less vigilante sightings than Gotham. Looking down at the battered and bruised figure of Nightwing sprawled across your couch you had to admit, this officially made Bludhaven weirder than Gotham. If only because in your years of living in Gotham you had never had a run in with the resident gaggle of vigilantes. Taking in his sweat soaked and disheveled curls, the half curl of his body that suggested a good amount of pain, and the way he was actually too big to fit on your admittedly small futon with how his legs dangled off the other end you sighed. 

A bird was a bird you supposed, Gotham looked after its own and while you had abandoned your home for Bludhaven the Gothamite still inside of you insisted you had a duty to look after the local vigilante. Setting the bat against the back of the couch you walked gingerly towards the window to assess the damage. Like you feared the lock had been snapped in two and the sizable crack that ran along the wooden frame was enough to tell you it was busted. You’d be living with a busted open window for the next few weeks while you scrounged around for enough money to cover repairs. Not even bothering to close it and risk damaging it further, you turned back towards your uninvited houseguest to check his own damage. In the light cast from the window you could make out a dark purpling bruise along the side of his face spanning from his temple to his jaw. Wincing in sympathy you shuffled closer and began gently prodding at his ribs. When he didn’t immediately shoot up in pain you returned your attention to his face. His mask was still firmly in place and you were grateful for it. You did not want to get dragged into the nightly struggle. Hoping that the bruising along his face was the worst of his injuries you tried to think of what to do next. You did not want to know what or who had managed to do that to the man. Instead you reached over and began unfolding the blanket you kept on the back of the couch. His suit left little to the imagination and you didn’t think it had to be very warm in the night chill now that he wasn’t actively fighting for his life and the lives of others. You could admit that despite the fact he was injured he had a nice figure. But that wasn’t something you’d be bringing up. Like most people you’d seen and heard about Nightwing enough to know how the media loved to sexualize him. It had to be exhausting and you weren’t about to add to it. Gently laying the blanket over him you wondered if he’d been exhausted or simply lost consciousness. There was no way for you to check without waking him and you dreaded the thought enough you weren’t about to even attempt it. Scrubbing an exhausted hand over your face you turned towards the bathroom where you kept your medkit. Closing the door mostly behind you before flicking on the lights you caught sight of your haggard appearance. You were exhausted from work. The dark circles under your eyes were a badge and testament to your workload. You missed Gotham’s much cheaper rent. Back in Crime Alley you hadn’t had to work as much as you did now. Sure the area had been Crime Alley but rent was cheap and so long as you kept your head down no one had bothered you much. Nudging open the cabinet underneath the sink you collected the medkit and swiftly left the bathroom. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Setting the kit down on the coffee table in what you hoped was Nightwing’s line of sight, you next turned your attention to the kitchen. As if on autopilot you shuffled in and grabbed what you needed to make a couple of sandwiches. You worked in silence as you stacked them on a paper plate and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Like most people you had a few waters in the fridge more for looks than an actual drink. Taking them to the coffee table you set them down next to the medkit. Sweeping one last concerned gaze over the vigilante still passed out on your couch you took a deep breath. You had done everything you could and you had at least enough confidence to know he wouldn’t die on your couch if you left him be. Satisfied he wouldn’t die in his sleep you left Nightwing be as you shuffled on back to your room and the sweet siren’s call of your warm bed.

In the morning you awoke half convinced it was a dream garnered by too much Lifetime TV. Especially when you saw the bat sitting against the nightstand. It wasn’t until you sat up that you had a feeling it wasn’t a dream. Your medkit sat at the foot of the bed. A place you would never leave it. Wide awake with adrenaline you shot out of bed to check if Nightwing was alright. What greeted you was an empty living room, the blanket folded and placed where it always was, no food or water left on the coffee table. Your second clue that it hadn’t been a strange dream came when you wandered into your own bathroom. Condensation clung to your mirror and one of your towels was definitely missing. Looking around further showed that he’d clearly had a shower before he left and you wondered exactly how tired you had to have been not to hear the water running considering the only bathroom in your apartment was in your room. Shaking it off you brushed your teeth and wondered why Nightwing had felt so comfortable showering in your apartment with only a flimsy bathroom door between you. Was he just that confident in his ability to sense someone sneaking up on him? Not that you would have even attempted. There were certain boundaries even you wouldn’t push and going out of your way to learn someone’s secret identity was one of them. Not that you thought you’d even recognize him. Grabbing the keys to your mailbox and a dog treat you locked the apartment door behind you. Like every morning you were going down to the ground floor to grab yesterday’s mail. No vigilante was going to ruin your morning routine. 

No matter how bizarre. 

Your routine was something you shared with your neighbor directly above you. Though more specifically you shared the routine with his dog. Your neighbor usually went down at the same time as you did every morning to grab yesterday’s mail and take his adorable puppy for her morning walk. To say you adored that dog would be an understatement. She had the ability to happily and shamelessly distract and derail your thoughts every time you saw her. She was the sweetest, happiest, thing you had ever seen with her wiggling body and lolling tongue. Truth be told, of which you would never admit, you could pick Haley out of a line up before you could pick out her owner. It was incredibly embarrassing but there was really nothing about Dick that stood out to you other than his dog. Sure, he was an attractive man, as your other neighbors liked to gossip, but Haley had always had your full attention. You hadn’t even realized how long he’d been your neighbor until he’d gotten Haley. Your direct nextdoor neighbor had practically laughed herself to tears when you admitted it to her. Cackling about how of course you’d notice the puppy before Dick ‘sex on legs’ Grayson. Which you couldn’t even argue against. 

As always Haley was sitting by Dick’s feet and promptly burst into happy wiggles and pants at the sight of you. Dick glanced up and then he smiled in greeting before going back to his mail, Haley’s leash draped loosely over an arm. Like always you smiled back before grabbing your mail, feeling Haley start pawing at your leg for her daily treat. Tucking the mail underneath your arm you knelt down to scratch Haley behind the ears. 

“Hi there sweetheart.” You cooed cheerfully just like every morning since you’d seen her. She was soft, smelling vaguely of vanilla and oatmeal shampoo. “Did your daddy give you a bath?” 

You thought you might have heard a huff of a laugh from the man in question but Haley had already zeroed in on the treat in your hand and had sat down with impatient squirming for her treat. 

“You’ve got her trained quicker than I have.” Dick groaned when you handed her the dog biscuit. That made you laugh. 

“I’m just happy you let me spoil her. She’s such a good girl.” You smiled and gave her one last scratch before straightening up. 

“She’s the best.” Dick agreed mildly before yawning. Your gaze was sympathetic. 

“Long night?” You asked.

“Yeah. You?” 

“Something like that.” You agreed unsure if you should admit to Nightwing stretched out on your couch in the wee hours of the morning. Or the fact he had apparently been comfortable enough to use your shower and steal one of your towels. Did that mean he was coming back? Or were you going to have to buy another towel?

“I better get going. You know how Haley gets when she can’t get her usual walk.” He told you with an affectionate eye roll. You laughed. 

“I’d be cranky too if I couldn’t get in some exercise.” You teased, “Bye Haley.”

Haley yipped at you tail wagging as you wiggled your fingers at her.

“Have a safe walk.” You told Dick when you glanced back at him. He smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You could feel his eyes watching you as you turned back towards the stairs and disappeared behind the door.

I'm glad you liked it so much! The sailor moon gif made my day. Again I'm terribly sorry it took me so long! But please feel free to request more if you'd like!

Nightmares Marvus x Reader

Heart trying to escape out of your throat you sat up in your bed breathing hard. For a moment you could still hear the sounds of the alarms on your little rocket ship blaring in alert as you crashed into Alternia’s surface. But as you began to wake more you realized you were safe- Alternia long behind you. Trembling from adrenaline you shakily threw off your blankets and slipped out of bed. Your legs felt weak, fawn-like as you wandered out of Marvus’ guest room. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what had triggered the nightmare. It had been years since that night, you weren’t even on Alternia anymore. Trying to calm yourself you stumbled into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. It was nothing. Nothing at all. You had experienced much worse than the shuttle crash since then and came out on the other side. Out of all the nightmares you had had since then it baffled and frustrated you that the crash was the most frequent of all. Behind you was the shuffle of feet and you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned to find Marvus shuffling into the kitchen.

“Hey lil buddy was up?” He asked tiredly, voice gravelly from sleep. Guilt over waking him nearly choked you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You spoke softly.

“Nah, don’ worry bout it. What’s wrong? Y’look like you seen some shit.” 

“It was just an old nightmare. Nothing I can’t handle.”

That just made Marvus frown as he came to sit beside you, dragging his stool close enough your knees brushed. 

“Wanna talk bout it?”

“Not… Not really.”

Marvus sighed, reaching out to lay his hand on your leg in a soothing gesture. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin, his cold hands remarkably grounding as you fought down the shivers of phantom panic. 

“I know I ain’t yo diamond or nothin’ but you do be knowin’ I still care bout you right?”

“Of course.” 

“But you still don’ wanna talk bout it.” 

“Its an old nightmare Marvus, comes back up every once in awhile. But its over now. That’s what matters.” 

“Still hurtin’ you somethin’ fierce though.” 

“Marvus.” You sighed. He glanced away with a clear scowl before shaking his head. 

“I don’ like seein’ you this worked up. ‘Specially when there ain’t a damn thing to do bout it.”

“I know. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t.” He spoke voice surprisingly firm, you glanced up at him to find him staring at you intently, almost angrily, “Don’t apologize. I don like the thought of you jus’ hidin’ away til your thinkpan’s on straight. Ain’t right.” 

“People have nightmares all the time.”

“Yeah? Well you ain’t jus’ people to me.”

You could feel the tears burning at your eyes, the stress of your nightmare rearing its ugly head. For a brief moment it was as if the deafening screech of metal was all around you again. Taking a deep breath you placed your hand on top of his. 

“Thanks Marvus.” 

His other hand came up to carefully wipe the tears from your eyes. Movements gentle as his thumb caressed your cheek. 

“What can I do?” He asked after a moment when the tears just kept coming. 

“I don’t…” More tears welled in your eyes blurring his face, “I don’t know.”

What a terrifying thought. The realization you didn’t know what would make you feel better at all. His hand brushed across your cheek again, then past it until he was carefully cupping the back of your head. He tilted you forwards as he leaned down until your foreheads were touching.

“That’s okay. Lemme jus’ take care of ya.” He spoke, voice soft. He tilted away from you to place a kiss to your scalp. “Don’ worry bout nothin’.” 

A shuddering breath left you as he deftly moved to lift you into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck you buried your head in his shoulder. Tears were burning at your eyes, trailing down your cheeks more insistent than before as you wrapped your legs around his legs. 

“I’ve got you. Ain’t nothin’ gon’ get you tonight, babe.” Claws rubbing soothingly up and down your back you allowed yourself to cry openly. Sobbing without restraint into his shoulder as he carried you back to bed. He wouldn’t shush you, the comfort he offered was different than what Polypa offered as your moirail. But it was more than you expected to receive and genuine. So very genuine. You knew he’d cleave the world in two if you asked and it terrified you as much as it soothed you. 

But tonight you could admit that it was what you needed. To know you were safe, to know you were loved, it was enough.

hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon

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alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.

I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back

Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share

AND LISTEN- LISTEN-

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.

God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???

NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY

EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-