girl from ipanema ! ˚˖ִ໋❀
includes! dick grayson x reader, dick is robin, both dick and reader attend gotham academy, they’re both around 17-18, comfort in a way, reader is stated to have an accent, hinted bullying but the reader is lowkey nonchalant bout it, kinda awkward reader.
synopsis! you’re new to gotham and so far, you’ve only met two kinds of people— neither of which are particularly interesting. until, dick grayson.
wc: 3.5k
a/n: no the reader isn’t actually from ipanema 😓. I just really wanted to write a transfer reader that transferred from somewhere out of america. As for the accent, I didn’t write it in any specific way so that it remains inclusive! reader is implied to be poc and afab but again, you can choose to ignore that if you’re not! I had my ex-hero!reader in mind for this so maybeeee this might be a prologue series to that… who knows…
ps: this might be full of errors… proceed with caution
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The halls of Gotham Academy seemed to do one of two things to people. The first is make them into haughty, self absorbed jerks who, half of the time, aren’t even there for the educational value of the institute. Not when their parents’ pockets are filled to the brim with green and they’re free to buy their way up the social ladder. You try to limit your interactions with these people to quite literally, below zero. The second is reserved for people whose parents’ pockets are slightly less full, or they’re just a rare mutation amongst the rich and privileged. The second type of person at Gotham Academy is the perpetually drained student, the perfectionist ones who actually make an effort at this ‘school’ thing. Even if they don’t necessarily have to. You think maybe it’s to prove something, either to themselves or others. Or just to make their parents happy, who knows?
Dick Grayson is the second. At least to you, he seemed like he’d be the second. It’s early November, and you’ve only been here since the start of last term— which was around April. Not much time to know someone, you’d reckon. Still, first impressions do count. And to you, your first impression of Dick Grayson was the second.
He’s the ward of Bruce Wayne, the richest man in Gotham. He’s insanely intelligent, talented, charismatic and in all honesty— incredibly easy on the eyes. You two share only a handful of classes together but all in all, he’s good at, well— everything.
In math, he was always on top of his work, assignments and had never asked a single question about a topic, ever. He was someone who just somehow knew everything. Maybe it’s just you. You’ve never fallen below 75% in the subject but you know math isn’t your strongest point, so perhaps your view on ‘good’ is a bit skewed.
It came as no surprise to you that he was also on top of his Business studies. After all, his guardian is The Bruce Wayne. He practically lives in the business world. Not to mention, the business life you could only talk about in class is— actually, his life. During class discussions, you awe at the examples he’d give; no doubt in your mind that they were pulled from real life experiences. You wondered what that was like, living not as rich— but downright wealthy.
Now, literature’s where things got interesting.
Literature brought out Dick’s more altruistic side. He’s the one who always manages to keep the attention on the subject itself, keeping the lesson flowing without allowing the teacher a chance to drag it out. There’s something ironic to be said about that—the student leading the pace of the lesson. Literature was a small class. Less than twenty, for sure. And a small class typically means that the teacher gets to be hyperfocused on each and every student. Which is good, to an extent. Your literature teacher, however, has a tendency to pick a bit too hard on some. And regrettably, that ‘some’ may or may not be you— the new girl from outside of Gotham. The girl who doesn’t talk all that much. But when she does, it’s with an unusual accent and phrases no one has ever even heard of.
What Dick does is not lost on you. In fact, there are times when you look at your schedule and pray that Dick’s in school that day. You’re eternally grateful to him for taking up most of the class discussion time on topics that don’t need further clarification. And you’re glad that he does. Sometimes you’ll get nuggets of information that come in handy for pop quizzes and other similar assignments.
With all that being said, Dick Grayson is the second type of person to you. He works hard and he’s dedicated. Despite being paired up with him only once or twice, that much was evident. He takes immense pride in everything that he does and honestly? That deserves respect. It's rare to see someone with a good work ethic, especially today, you think.
In your term and a half of knowing Dick Grayson, he’s never once spoken out of turn, never faltered in his confidence (not that you can recall, at least) and always stuck up for the people who needed it. To you, Dick might be the most genuine person in Gotham Academy, even if he doesn’t think so himself.
Even before you got to know him, he always stood out to you. You remember your first conversation with him vividly, almost as if it were yesterday.
You had transferred in last term, not only into Gotham Academy, but into Gotham itself. You’re a foreigner whose surprisingly-rich-relative-who-lived-in-gotham offered to fund your last years of high school before college…in a whole new school. You’re not sure what conversation took place between your parents and them, but they agreed it was the best opportunity that could come out of this year. And they seemed very sure. You didn’t think twice about it. They wouldn’t have brought it up to you if they didn’t believe you could do it, right? You were never one to ask that many questions anyhow. You always kind of wanted to experience a foreign school, even if it meant temporarily leaving some things behind. Oh, if only you knew it would have been like this.
Not even a full week into the new academic year and you two had already been paired up to work on a project for business class together. A project which you had approximately a week to complete. It wasn’t hard in any sense of the word. Simple research, analysis and presentation. And despite your near self-crippling dread of underperforming in a school filled with the best of the best, simple research was something you’ve done in the past and you can more than do it again. While you weren’t exactly sure on what the curriculum required, Dick, as thoughtful as ever, took a day out of your week-long deadline to just talk.
Immediately after business, he had introduced himself to you— as if there was a way you couldn’t have known who he was. He had called after you just as you were about to exit and asked if you were able to stay back after school to meet with him at the library, to which you agreed.
You were quite starstruck at his manners. Frankly, it caught you off guard. He wasn’t boastful or flat out rude like the majority of the population here. It was refreshing hearing his polite tone. When you mentioned you had a class to get to but wasn’t sure on where to go, he actually offered to walk you. (You also pretended like you didn’t hear a scoff behind you from an eavesdropping girl.)
“So, Richard—” “Dick.”
“Pardon?” He chuckled at you, and you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly straight his teeth were and just how blindingly bright his smile was. “Everyone calls me Dick. You can too.”
You pause for a moment, remembering a dad joke you’d seen on the internet once. “What’s that saying again? ‘How do you get Dick from Richard?’”
He finishes the thought without missing a beat, “You ask nicely.”
“I just know you abuse that one.” you shook your head at him, lips curling up in what was probably your first smile of the week. He grinned at you again, shrugging. “Guilty.”
And he actually had a sense of humour. Extra rare here.
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The library that afternoon was fairly deserted. There were a couple of students spread out across the hall, taking up their own respective corners. You found a space closest to the Business section to situate yourself in, in case you needed to pull references from anything external. Like everything at Gotham Academy, the library was nothing short of scholarly. From its polished floors to its unnaturally high ceiling— everything screamed perfection. While a part of you felt accomplished for even being accepted as a transfer into the academy, there was a part of you that felt insanely out of place.
The people here were studying to be future doctors, lawyers and politicians. But, what were you studying to be? You didn’t know. To you, the world felt too vast. There were so many things you wanted to do but nothing truly called your name. At some point you started to wonder if people were making up their stories of certainty about their future and what they wanted to be.
To you, it just felt like your teen years were running away from you and leaving you in the dust of the rest of the world. If there’s one reason you came to the academy, it was to make the most of an opportunity. Hopefully, you manage to do— at least, that.
Before you could have allowed yourself to be fully immersed in the bottomless hole that was self degradation, your saviour, Dick showed up just on time. As he entered through the heavy double doors, he immediately finds your table, making his way over with a sort of confidence that— if put on anyone else, would seem incredulously practiced. But not for him. You’re not sure how he did it, but like everything else, he made it seem effortless. Perhaps, for him, it was effortless.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late.” He rested his stuff down opposite yours, offering you an apologetic smile. You couldn’t help but notice the lack of material he carried. “I got a bit held up.”
You raised your head from the laptop in front of you to meet his eyes completely before you spoke— a manner you’ve long learnt from family. Something you’ve noticed wasn’t quite common here. “Nah, it’s okay. I haven’t been waiting long… Um, I actually started on some of the questions already. I don’t know if you wanna fact check them for me?” You asked hesitantly, uncertain of the way he would usually work or his pacing.
“Oh! Uh, yeah sure. I’ll look over it.” He moved to sit in the seat next to yours to better view the screen. With the newfound proximity, you couldn’t help but take in the cologne he wore. His frame practically emanated notes of citrus, sandalwood and cardamom—if you remembered your scents correctly. You thought of complimenting him, but he seemed deeply immersed in what you had written and you probably shouldn’t distract him. You’d save it for later.
A few minutes passed and Dick had thoroughly examined your work and given you surprisingly minimal feedback. Most of his comments consisted mainly of ‘This is good. Exactly what most teachers look for!’ Or ‘I like these examples.’ You took that as a win.
“I added myself to the document. Hope that’s okay.” He said, turning the laptop back to you completely.
“Uh, yeah that’s fine. I was going to send it to you anyhow. Oh! Right. Can I have your number?” You stammered a bit in trying to make your accent come off less strong for him. Something told you that Dick picked up on your minor insecurity, but chose to be taciturn on the matter. You pulled your phone out for him, to which he did the same.
Taking the phone from your hands, he started softly, “Y’know, you work pretty quick.”
“Sorry?” You paused in your typing to look up at him.
“Not in a bad way! I just mean you got a lot finished today and well— actually I wasn’t planning on doing anything. I just thought we could get to know each other a bit.” He rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. You wordlessly handed his phone back as he did the same. “After all, we’re in—what? Three classes together, plus homeroom. It’s only fair, right?” He had turned his chair to face you completely with an arm resting atop the table. You nodded. Now that you really thought about it, this was the most positive kind of attention anyone’s given you since you got here.
“Yeah, that makes sense. So, what do you wanna talk about?”
His lips curled upwards at the ends in an innocent smile, “Maybe we can start with something twenty questions-y?”
You tried to fight the way your lips contorted in the same way his did. But It was as if his smile was painfully contagious. “Sure, why not.”
“Okay. For my first question: How are you liking Gotham Academy so far?”
“The skirts are short.” You replied almost instantly, which elicited an amused huff from Dick. “Shorter than what I’m used to at least. The workload and facilities aren’t bad. A lot better than my old school. Hmm… What else?” You hummed in thought.
Dick, at this point, had already found a comfortable position with his head resting atop the hand on the table. He stared at you patiently, as if he had all the time in the world to waste. “The people?” He prompted, tilting his head in the way that he always did. His eyes didn’t once stray from your face as you spoke again. The unusual attention made you want to shrink into yourself.
“They’re… okay, I suppose.” You paused. Dick was in your classes, he knew what your standing with the others were. He just wanted to know what you thought about it. “I haven’t interacted with enough people to formulate an opinion but yeah… they’re okay.” You mimicked his head tilt unknowingly. He waited for a moment before responding, maybe just trying to find the right words.
“Just not the kind of people you’re used to?” You chuckled at that. You’d been through a practical (but expected) academic culture shock. Talk about understatement of the year.
“Not at all.”
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And just like that, your conversation with Dick Grayson spanned for what seemed like forever and no time at all. You talked about favourite colours, food, music preferences and hobbies. Dick was surprisingly easy to talk to. You’re not sure how he did it, but in a matter of moments you felt yourself relax for the first time since your arrival to Gotham.
During your conversation, you even managed to share snippets of your life with him as he did the same with you. Dick made you open up so quickly, you weren’t even sure when you stopped caring about how your accent sounded.
Unlike the rest, who’d so rudely asked about your past and where you’re from, Dick approached each question with genuine curiosity and caution. He asked permission to ask certain questions and even offered for you to not give him an answer if you felt uncomfortable. But around him, how could you? Instead of assuming the place of your birth, he asked. Instead of guessing what you were mixed with or what your ethnicity was, he waited for you to bring the topic up. And if you dropped a topic, so did he. He didn’t push or demand anything of you.
Dick Grayson was respectful in every way of the word.
You shared with him the culture you grew up with, the shared snippets of childhood everyone from your society could attest to, you even somehow managed to explain the local slang you’d allow to slip out every now and then and what it meant in certain contexts. Dick Grayson might have been the most receptive person you’ve come across yet. You were certain that what you said made zero sense— or would have made zero sense to anyone else. But not him. He, somehow, always understood exactly what you meant.
In return for your gesture, Dick shared with you his childhood. He mentioned his Romani roots, despite not looking like it. He mentioned how he got into acrobatics. He even mentioned a bit of his parents, before Bruce Wayne. But nothing that completely filled in the picture of his past. You didn’t push. You were certain he’d tell you when he was ready.
When he spoke, you thought only to nod, soaking in everything he had to offer. After all, you just met the boy and weren’t sure what would qualify as pushing boundaries. And the last thing you wanted was to make Dick uncomfortable. Not after he made you so comfortable.
“You seemed happy back home. Why Gotham? And why Gotham Academy?” Dick tilted his head at you, almost puppy-like.
“Well, the Academy’s a good school and it’s actually much easier in terms of college applications in the city and whatnot.” You tried to sum up your decision into a sentence, saving him the long story. “Back home just… has less? Less than a first world country, obviously. I suppose… It's a start in some place new. Though, I’ll admit. Moving without anyone’s been unnecessarily hard.” you fiddled with the lining of your blazer collar.
Dick perked up at that. “You’re alone? In Gotham?”
“Uh, yeah actually. My parents stayed with me until I settled but right now I’m on my own. They make sure and check in on me everyday though!”
“Isn’t that technically illegal? Aren’t you a bit young to live by yourself?” Dick tilted his head in that same dog-like fashion again.
“Technically speaking, a relative owns the place I’m staying at. They’re just— never there. And, I turn eighteen soon… So not that illegal.”
“Really?” You were pretty sure he beamed a little at the implication of a ‘birthday’. “When’s your birthday?”
You put a hand to your chin in mock thought, “Hmm… guess we’ll never know.”
“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll just tell you happy birthday everyday until I get it right.” The giggle that followed rolls off his tongue like honey.
“Please don't do that.”
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Your time together ended up being cut short by the librarian shooing you two out, insisting that she even gave you two an extra ten minutes past closing to finish up. When you checked your watch it was already past five o’clock— you hadn’t even noticed the hours going by. You internally smacked yourself on the head. No one wants to walk home too late in Gotham city, unless you planned on getting robbed.
“Shoot! Look at the time.” You gathered your things swiftly, throwing them into your bag. “I’ve gotta get home before it gets too dark, yeah?”
“O—oh, yeah. Let me walk you out.” Dick rose from his seat, helping you pack the used books back up on the shelves.
“We both have to walk out anyhow.” You teased, seeing the librarian from the corner of your eye repeatedly tap her foot against the floor in annoyance.
“Well— yeah… let’s just… yeah.” He conceded, holding the door for you. Ever the gentleman, you thought. “For the record,” his voice made you stop right in the doorway, “your accent is understandable. You don’t have to worry about it as much as you do.”
At that, you felt a heat rise to your face. Most likely a heat of shame— or embarrassment from being caught. You weren’t sure what the expression on your face was saying, but from Dick’s reaction it must have been somewhat comical.
“I understood it just fine.” He said softer, “actually, I think it’s cool. And unique!— is it offensive if I say that? I’m sure you get that a lot.”
You laughed at his effort of not wanting to come off wrong. “No, it’s not offensive… and thanks. It means a lot.” you realised you’ve been making him hold the door open for far too long and immediately side step out of the doorway. “Sorry.”
Dick only grinned.
As you exited the library, the fading hues of gotham’s sky met your eyes. The warm shades of orange fade away past the concrete buildings as the sun curled like a coin, slipping into the pocket of the horizon. Despite the warm atmosphere, the wind still had a kick to it, sending chills up your legs as Dick walked you to the front gate. After saying your goodbyes, he waited for you to leave first.
Before you got too far, you called out to him.“Dick.”
Maybe now was a good time for that compliment, you thought. “Thanks for today... I had fun.” With how soft you were speaking you weren’t sure if he even heard you. “You’re nicer than I thought.”
“Don’t mention it. And… thanks? I guess.” And again, he did that same stupid head tilt you’ve grown to love, despite only truly knowing him for a day.
You smiled at him one final time before turning away. You made it about four steps before you remembered. “Oh! You smell really good by the way!”
You spun around immediately, not waiting for a response— effectively missing the way Dick shyly ducked his head into the top of his blazer, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “… thank you?”
You also missed how Gotham’s own Boy Wonder silently tailed you all the way to your residence from the rooftops, making sure you made it back in one piece.
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On further reflection, it would be a disrespect to call Dick a second. He’s a category in his own right.
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a/n: sorry for the errors everyone. I felt very unwilling to proof read 😢
