#hes such a fantastic conversationalist

[sylasthegrim]

Aemond SFW Alphabet Headcanons

Newly wedded Aemond x reader

Tags: romance, fluff, married life

Wordcount: 2,700

HotD General Masterlist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Aemond is a very private person. In public he prides himself in appearing dignified and almost intimidating. The most affectionate gesture he will allow himself is a hand on your back to guide you, or a gentle hold of your hand to help you down some steep steps. Even on your wedding day, his kiss was as brief and chaste as possible, and it almost felt as though his lips hadn’t touched yours at all. 

In private, he is still reserved, but much more free with his affections. His hand will drift to your lower back or your waist, gently holding your body close to his. The boldest gesture of affection he has bestowed upon you while in the presence of family is a kiss to your cheek, but his preference remains a chaste kiss, feather-like, to the back of your hand.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

When your courtship started, Aemond was as proper and polite as you had expected of a prince, but as the weeks went by you had come to the conclusion that you made fantastic friends as well. Your passion for history and poetry rivaled his, and his quick mind never ceased to amaze you. You found out he had a dry, sardonic sense of humor, and that he was a passionate conversationalist. He was a man of few words and he chose them carefully, but if the topic of conversation was a passion of his, he would never hesitate to go into depth.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Aemond is not a cuddler. In the first few weeks of your marriage, you found him quite cold and distant, and you often wondered whether your touch was repulsive to him. But as time went on and you got to know him more intimately, you realized he was simply unused to casual touches and physical affection. Now he welcomes your embraces, and his favorite way to hold you is by tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. The feeling of your cheek against his chest gives him a sense of safety and he loves holding you this way, close to his heart, as you are precious to him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Aemond keeps his chambers neat and organized. Everything has its designated place and he gets upset with the servants if things are not kept in their appropriate place. He is probably one of the only people in the royal family that doesn’t mind the atmosphere of the Red Keep. It is not in his nature to complain, and he seems easily satisfied if his apartments are kept clean and organized. You know he doesn’t dream of a grand castle or luxurious decor, his ambitions lie elsewhere. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Aemond had courted another woman before you. It had been a match arranged by his grandsire the Hand, and the lady’s own father. For a few weeks he had taken her on walks in the Keep’s gardens every day, trying to initiate conversations with her, but it quickly became apparent that they had no interests in common, and that their tempers were not harmoniously matched. He felt as though it would be unfair to this lady to continue courting her when his heart was not invested, and therefore chose to end it. He spoke to the lady first, in polite but firm words, choosing to speak his mind directly rather than finding excuses. Even though she did appear a bit hurt by the refusal, she thanked him for his honesty.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Aemond is a patient man, and therefore prefers to take his time courting a lady before asking for her hand, and enjoys a long period of betrothal before the wedding takes place. Whether it takes weeks or months, he uses this time to get to know the lady as best as he can and make sure he is equipped to offer her a happy married life. Your betrothal with him lasted several months, and even though it seemed to drag on and on at times, you loved that he was committed to knowing you before he took you as his wife. Knowing your heart and your mind was more important to him than to take you to bed quickly. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Aemond is gentle when it comes to physical affection or love-making. His movements are always poised and careful, however he sometimes lacks gentleness when it comes to the emotional side of things. He can be rigid and harsh, but you know it doesn’t come from a bad place. It is simply the way he was raised and the way he forged his own character growing up. Honesty is paramount to him, and he appreciates you telling him when he lacks gentleness, and he always apologizes for it, verbally and with a soft kiss to your forehead.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Aemond is neither a cuddler, nor a hugger. However, in times of turmoil or after a particularly frightening event, he will take you into his arms without hesitation, even if you two are in public. Despite his reluctance to show affection in front of others, if you are distraught, he will gather you into his arms and reassure you. An arm around your waist and his other hand cradling your face, he will hold your face close to his so that you breathe the same air until you are calm again. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Surprisingly, Aemond was the first to speak of love in your marriage. Since he is so quiet and reserved, you had not dared tell him your love, and one night, after he had made love to you more slowly and tenderly than usual, he had whispered those three words in the crook of your neck, like a secret confession. He then kissed the tear that had rolled down your cheek at his declaration, and swallowed your own words of love with a kiss on your lips.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Aemond is a jealous and possessive man, everyone at court knows it. He never has to say anything, or to do anything as all lords know not to approach you with intents other than simple polite conversation. But on the rare occasion that a young lord, unfamiliar with the complexities of court, invites you to dance or offers you a brazen compliment, a hard look from Aemond is all it takes to send him away. Aemond is always more vigorous in bed after those instances.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Aemond’s kisses always start chaste but firm, his lips molding to yours, his breath matching the rhythm of yours. He likes to follow your lead, and doesn’t mind keeping it chaste if it is your desire. But on nights where he desires you, he kisses you deeply and thoroughly, as if he wishes to learn you all over again. He kisses you like he has never tasted your lips before and like he won’t ever again. His kisses always make you feel cherished and desired, and when he is done drinking his fill of you at your mouth, he will trail his lips to your neck. 

As for the kisses you bestow upon him, he loves feeling your soft lips on his sharp jaw, on the hollow of his throat and on his chest, over his heart. Those kisses always make his heart skip a beat.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Aemond is patient with children, that much you knew even before you were wedded. You had the occasion to see him interact with his sister Helaena’s children and you found him to be a wonderful uncle. He was careful with them, and always seemed interested in what the children were doing or showing him.

You know that when you finally have children of your own, he will be a wonderful, attentionate father.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Aemond is an early riser. He has a precise routine he follows every morning. First he washes and dresses, then spends half an hour praying. You love watching him pray for a minute before you join him —his joined hands and peaceful face make quite a beautiful sight. Then depending on the day, he will either go down to the courtyard to train with Ser Criston, or to the library to continue his studies. But whichever he is doing that morning, he never leaves your chambers without kissing you on the forehead and wishing you a beautiful morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Aemond doesn’t require a lot of sleep, and therefore often stays up into the night reading. You are often asleep when he comes to bed, and he loves spending a long minute watching you sleep while trailing his fingers along the curves of your hips or back. Sometimes he will thread his fingers in your hair, enjoying their softness. But on the occasions you also stay up late to read —that is how you spend most of your evenings with Aemond, reading in comfortable silence, he will pry the book from your hand gently before setting it aside. You always know what it means, and it never ceases to make you blush. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes a long time for Aemond to open up. He has a lot of past wounds that are still painful, and it took weeks until he was comfortable showing you his injured eye. You had found the gem he wears in his empty eye socket to be beautiful, but he had still forbidden you from touching it, or even mentioning it. It takes months before he speaks to you about the night his eye was cut, and he does so in the silence and darkness of the night, in whispers and murmurs you have to hold your breath to hear. You cherish those confessions.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Aemond is slow to anger, but once he has accumulated enough resentment, his fury is legendary. You have only seen it a handful of times, and it frightens you the first time you see it. His hold on his emotions is admirable, and quite often his anger is reined in as soon as he realizes he has unleashed it. You also know his anger stems from pain, and that he will need to be comforted later.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Aemond has a phenomenal memory. He remembers even the smallest details, and the most insignificant things you told him during your courtship. From your favorite flower to your favorite cakes, and from the name of your dearest cousin to your happiest childhood memory. All information about you is precious to him and he collects it avidly.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One particular moment in your relationship that Aemond cherishes, is the day you accepted his proposal. Before he made his formal request for your hand to your father, he had taken you to a secluded area of the gardens. He had made you sit under a beautiful, fragrant tree, and had told you of his desire to wed you. The look on your face at his words is etched into his memory and will never fade —the rosy glow of your cheeks, the blush that had extended to your throat, the tears that had pearled at the corner of your eyes and the wide smile that had stretched your lips. He will remember each and every one of those details for the rest of his days. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Aemond considers your safety to be paramount, both your physical and emotional safety. He made sure that the guards surrounding you are well-trained and battle-tested, and he personally overviewed the selection of ladies that constitute your household and that keep you company. When you have to travel outside of the castle, he always accompanies you, and his sword is always strapped at his waist. Also, the imposing shadow of Vhagar is never far.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Aemond believes in small gestures on a daily basis, rather than grand gestures on important dates, but he knows those are important to you, and therefore he tries to please you on these days. He has your favorite cakes brought to you to break your fast, or a new necklace waiting on your vanity table. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Aemond’s worst habit, according to you, is coming to bed smelling of dragon. To him Vhagar’s smell has stopped being recognizable to him years ago, but the intense smell of ash and musk is still displeasing to you. It sticks to his clothes and to his hair, and quite often a full bath is necessary to wash it away.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Aemond is reluctant to show you his scarred face at first. He hides his eye behind his eyepatch, refusing to take it off if even a single candle is lit. He doesn’t want to frighten you, and he is afraid the sight of his injured flesh will repulse you. It takes him a long time before he is comfortable removing his eye patch in your shared chambers, and an even longer one until he accepts to remove the sapphire that adorns it. He knows the sight is an ugly one, and he wants to remain as desirable as possible to you.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Aemond always felt like he did not belong, even in his own family, and therefore he cherished the prospect of building his own family with you. He feels at ease in your company, loved and accepted for who he is, and that is priceless to him. At your side, he has finally found his place.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Aemond is as thorough and skilled in the marriage bed as he is with everything else he puts his mind to —he studies, he practices, and he makes sure to get it right every time. See NSFW alphabet prompts.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

If there is one thing Aemond cannot stand, it is incurious people. Whether it is people at court, or previous potential betrothed, if a person has no interest in the world around them or its history, then he considers time spent in their company as wasted time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Aemond sleeps without any clothes on, as he enjoys the feeling of the bedsheets against his bare skin, but he also likes to feel you as you sleep side by side. He is not a cuddler in bed, but he still likes to have at least one point of contact with you —your hands touching, your leg resting against his, and in the rare cases that he allows you to snuggle up to him as you slowly fall into slumber, he wants no barrier between you two.

-

#house of the dragon #hotd #fanfiction #fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond headcanons #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #house targaryen

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 26, 2021 4:00 a.m. a balcony, somewhere

time somehow seems to simultaneously slow to a crawl and race beyond the speed of light. grant doesn’t remember when they’d ended up perched like lovebirds at the pinnacle of a staircase, peering out over the night-drenched landscape, but it must have been a while ago. customers have long since stopped streaming in and out of the restaurant on the street below.

he remembers in better detail the stream of their conversation–they’d shifted from food and a strangely peaceful, humorous discussion of kicking the bucket to movies, and at some point, paranormal stories came up along the way.

it’d be hard to forget talking to yunha.

there’s something curiously enrapturing about her, something that had drawn him to her when he first made eye-contact with her.

the look in her eyes, maybe. it’s piercing, like she’s baring right through your skin and into your soul, but not malicious or judgmental. it’s friendly, it’s curious, it’s playful.

the way she speaks, maybe. she’s the most engaged conversationalist he’s ever encountered. everything you say, whether she agrees or disagrees, is met with affirmations and a lot of nodding. yes, yes, of course. i see, i see. i understand. ohhh, wow! really?

she’s unraveling every shard of the puzzle that is his personality and piecing it back together in one whole picture, analyzing it. figuring it out. appreciating it.

or maybe it’s the sweetness that radiates off her. she appears unafraid to smile, instead all too happy to flash those pretty, crooked bunny teeth for the world to see.

“so, i'm going to guess you’re not accidentally good at singing.”

she seems not to mind revealing her own puzzle pieces either, and the more she says about herself, the more fascinated he is with her. with who she is. with what makes her tick.

“i hope it’s not an accident,” yunha replies, laughing, “because shit, then years worth of practice was a waste.”

“time enjoyed is never time wasted.”

the unabashed cringe of the line garners an immediate eye roll, but she still seems to find it funny.

they’ve definitely been sitting here a while. grant straightens his back, fixing his gradually slouching posture, and is is met with an immediate flash of pain, distinct from the chronic dull ache underlying every day of his life, that radiates down every vertebra.

“what got you into music, though?”

yunha’s rosy pink lips purse in thought as she dwells on the question.

“a lot of things. my parents like music. i listened to a lot of different kinds of songs my whole life, first with them, and then later with my friends. i had some time between classes and studying to spend having fun, but i couldn't spend any money, so my friends and i would go to this music store. we walked around and picked random albums to listen to on the headphones. we never bought anything.”

grant nods supportively. “what’s, like, the first album you remember really liking? or albums. you don’t have to pick one.”

“ah! i treasure so many albums. seo taiji and boys IV. i think that’s still my favorite nostalgic album ever. i also remember fondly, um, this girl’s in love with you by aretha franklin. i heard that at the music store, and i was so impressed by her talent. i still am.”

“i'm not a music expert. surprise! i know, i know, i'm sorry to tell you, i did not practice for centuries for that wonderful spice girls performance earlier. no, but seriously, i most often just listen to the same old emo stuff i liked when i was 13. so, unfortunately i don’t know the first album at all, at least not yet, but i do know the second one. you have fantastic taste, that’s a classic.”

despite his ignorance, yunha still smiles from ear to ear. “you should look up the first one! look up, like, seo taiji ‘come back home.’ that’s the most popular song on the album. i don’t wanna bias you, so listen on your own and make your own opinions.”

“wilco. and if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you turn the interest in music into a skill? you are talented, but i know it's very much a skill. it does take a lot of practice to become tangibly good at music.”

“to express myself,” yunha says plainly, “it’s easier to tell your story in art than talking about it, and singing is free. you don’t need supplies to learn it. but yes, i needed that kind of outlet, you know? i always liked singing, always did it, but i needed more than only entertainment from it over time.”

“oh yeah, art is helpful. i really should have gotten on that train earlier. i got on board about a year ago. it's much better for you than intellectualizing everything. or at least that's what i tend to do. do you perform, by the way? outside of karaoke, that is."

"sometimes. but also, not in a long time."

there falls a brief, but peaceful lull in the conversation. grant’s eyes draw to black night sky as he recalls the last haphazard art he’d created–the mushy-gushy attempt at processing the universe. seeing it hanging above him now, his thoughts are no less conflicting. light pollution washes out the shining sea of stars, but the sky still retains its beauty, its bewilderment. visible or not, an infinite chain of dimensions and celestial bodies exist in the vacuum of space, orbiting independent of him, yet factoring in the tiny fraction of his mass on the mass of the earth in their delicate ballerina dance across the fabric of spacetime.

the universe must have created me for some reason, for something other than anguish.

his own words. again. ever-present.

“i miss seeing the stars.” yunha’s buttery soft voice breaks his concentration. “you can’t see anything here.”

“polaris.” grant raises his left arm and draws his index finger across the sky until it hovers above the only star he’s seen thus far. “technically, that means we should be able to see sirius, too, but we don’t need to get all science-y and talk about magnitude and that polaris isn’t–”

“i would like it if you did.”

she was thinking of the stars, too.

synchronicity.

“aw shucks! well. i’ll say this, polaris isn’t the brightest star. we just talk about it way more frequently because it has the most cultural significance in the northern hemisphere for, you know, navigation reasons. but hey, give it about 12,000 more years, and it even won’t be the north star anymore. thank you, wobbly earth axis. but also boo, woobly earth axis, because it's a little sad to think about.”

yunha’s eyes glitter with fascination. “it’ll be something else?”

“yep! the next north star will be vega,” he explains, “come on down, you’re the next contestant!”

“maybe we’ll see it happen.”

“if my consciousness is still floating around as little dust particles, that’d be pretty sick. you know? forget fly me to the moon, fly me to vega. why not?”

“i don’t think i'll be dust,” yunha says, not missing a beat at all, even as her focus remains fixed on the faintest twinkle emanating from polaris, “it’s kind of troubling. you don’t want to be, like, stuck in the whole cycle of the universe, but if you’re still here, you can see some really beautiful things.”

“ah. reincarnation?”

“if you’re asking me, you’re not going to be dust. either you escape the suffering or you come back in some kind of physical form, human or not, and you try again.”

grant thinks about it for a moment. and then the feelings, like usual, spill out at once.

“i'm not going to lie, that idea has always given me the heebie-jeebies. i think it’s very cool as a concept, but i'm, like, man, i don’t want to do this shit again. also, look, we're doing the thing again. oh, and shit, that sounded judgmental. i just run my mouth too much."

"most people don't know they lived before. you can't really remember your other lives without a lot of study," she answers, "and no, you don't. i prefer to hear your real opinion. it's actually stupid when people tell you what they think you want to hear."

"do you ever wonder what you were up to last go-around?"

"not too much, but i always heard strange birthmarks and scars are signs from your last death. fears, too. things you avoid. so, i guess, like, a clown stabbed me in the neck with needles."

"are you afraid of storm drains, by any chance? if so, i think pennywise had it out for you."

"hahaha." yunha shakes her head. "wait, i have to ask. is it not worse thinking you can only live once? that's not uncomfortable? feeling like you have to make everything perfect in your one lifetime?"

"oh no, it's terrifying. dying and just being done with everything is eerie, too, because there are nice things to do and see here in the real world. you’re right about that. and yeah, there is a lot of pressure to get it all right. also, that's not even mentioning that there are people i love that i don’t want to be gone forever. i'd like to think they remain somehow. conscious or not. i kind of think they do, but i don’t know. am i contradicting myself? capital-P probably."

“you don’t know what to think.”

grant immediately bursts out laughing. “yeah, no, absolutely not. i do not know. i just kinda waffle around and hope some scientist throws out some numbers and whatnot that proves some explanation of everything correct. but that’s impossible. it’s literally impossible. we can’t even simulate or predict the wacky physics that were going on at the exact moment the big bang happened.”

“not to be, like, all quirky, but...” yunha reaches over, patting him on the shoulder. “maybe don’t think about it? you’re gonna go crazy. you can just not know? and it's fine. this doesn’t mean anything anyway. the answer to anything is already in you, it’s not out there.”

and then she, too, starts giggling all over again and her cheeks blush deep red from sheepish cringe.

another stereotypical line, but he doesn't mind. they sound better coming from her than him anyhow.

a second later and she checks the time on her phone. her cheesy smile erodes into a slight frown.

“ahh, i really need to leave soon. i have a schedule in the morning.”

grant checks the time as well, drawing the sleeve of his hoodie up just enough to read the minuscule roman numerals on his watch.

on the watch an ex-girlfriend gifted him. not päivi, but...

4:00 a.m.

fuck.

right.

you’re leaving the country in two hours.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 storytelling #simblr #hlcn: everything the stars promised #GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS #*screams into the void* #i have too many thoughts and i need to WATCH IT in my tags gushing because i will reveal too much either way #all i'm gonna say for now is ermmmmm i've been thinking about these scenes for literal years and i am pretty happy with how they came out #also i needed to advance the plot a bit for [REDACTED] story elements hence the unusual conversations #but nonetheless i love people getting to be a little funky and weird with each other and idk i've had similar encounters with random people #classmates and whatnot and you just find yourself talking about topics that are hard to get into but somehow you did #holocene.docx #holocene.png #hlcn: grant #hlcn: yunha

[where-dreamers-go]

"Emotions And Realizations" Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Part Four in the soulmate au series with 1960s Robin/Dick Grayson.

Last time we saw a secret spread through the city, trust broken, and soulmates having milkshakes. But wait. The most frustrating and exciting is yet to come!

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Reader has social anxiety? Use of (mx) and (Y/N). Dick Grayson is the sweetest person. Reader’s guardian is a doorknob/something else.

Word Count: 10,031 words)

<- previous

~~~

A quiet Sunday morning in Gotham City and all appeared to be normal. Weekend activities went as planned. The weather was beautiful. Birds chirped happily.

This stinks. You thought with a low huff.

In the study, the open history book on the desk hardly had your attention. A scratch piece of paper had more ink marks than your list of assignment answers.

An ‘attitude’? Are they serious? I’ve barely said anything to them since Monday. I’ve been neutral. Civil.

As of returning home on Saturday from the Wayne Manor, you were officially grounded.

You were in trouble. For what? What wrong had you done?

According to your guardian, you were in trouble for the next week. Reasonings being: of how you acted on Monday, your attitude for the past week, for not letting them know ahead of time you were going to see Dick Grayson, and missing a lunch they had planned with a friend on Saturday.

They didn’t exactly tell me about the lunch yesterday. Oh, but they’re disappointed. ‘You embarrassed me’. Sorry. Didn’t meant to. I’m not perfect.

You leaned back in the chair, glad you were alone in the room. Comfortable clothes gave you emotional support.

And then the whole: ‘Your punishment will be longer if you don’t do well on those quizzes coming up.’ Really? As if I don’t do my best every day? School isn’t easy. How much more well-behaved do I have to be? I don’t talk and it’s good, but if I don’t talk it’s bad?

Tapping the chair, you did your best to get out the energy fueled by frustration. Quietly. Always quietly.

No phone, you thought over the restrictions, and no desserts!

Four months ago it would had been a punishment in your favor. But, as of late, you had your soulmate physically in your life. Plus no desserts was unusual punishment.

You couldn’t even call to let Dick know. You were afraid to ask.

And Saturday had been so wonderful.

Attempting to return to the textbook failed. Again.

They’re just upset I wasn’t at the lunch. I’m not going to be home every second or available whenever. I don’t overhear every phone call they have. I’m bound to forget at least one thing.

Being grounded days after ‘offenses’ seemed to be reaching for more reasons to justify it all.

I’m not the one who broke a promise — spreading a secret that wasn’t theirs! People kept questioning me and—

Frustrations were high. Tension rekindling at home.

Knuckles popped and shoulders squared.

You huffed again.

Did you ever forgive your guardian for pushing you towards the Penguin or telling your secret? No. Definitely no in the near future either.

You figured the pushing towards a criminal was just really bad judgement. What else could it be?

The breaking a promise was something you would not forget and you’d be careful what you shared in the future with them.

To think, in contrast, you were becoming more comfortable sharing thoughts with Dick. He was a fantastic listener. A gosh darn good conversationalist too.

We don’t even have to talk. You thought and rolled the pen around with your fingers. Your thoughts going back to Saturday. He was so tired. If we were anywhere else, would he put his head down?

Exhaling, soon your shoulders relaxed. Thoughts of you soulmate playing in your mind.

Music played throughout the room. Just enough to keep the study from being so empty of sound.

Your textbook remained on the desk forgotten. It would have its time. Whenever you decided upon it.

Keeping your attention elsewhere was much more satisfying. Right where you wanted it.

In turn, the desk chair had been moved to the front of the loveseat where Dick was laying down.

“Tired?” You asked and brushed back a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“No.”

“No?” You rested your forearms on your thighs as you leaned forward.

Dick cracked a smile.

“Then what are you doing here laying down? Testing the cushions?”

“I was waiting for you to finish with homework.”

“Well, I’m finished for now.”

“For now?” He questioned, tilting his head to see you better.

“Uh-huh.”

You watched on as Dick took ahold of your hands and brought them to his chest. Comfortable.

“You work too much.”

“So do you.” You poked his sweater-covered chest.

Bringing your hands up, he kissed your finger.

A familiar warmth flooded your chest.

You blinked and flexed your hands.

The textbook was still in front of you. Waiting. Your hands were no where near anyone else’s.

Okay, you thought. Aware of time spent being unproductive.

That word could ruin any mood.

Unproductive. You scoffed. I’m not a machine. If I want to think about my soulmate kissing— Wait…um.

His lips touched your fingertip. Softly and soon smiling.

Sitting there, you wondered and searched your mind to see if this was the first time you had thought of Dick in that way. Surely it wasn’t out of no where.

Did it matter if you didn’t know?

Thinking of playing with Dick’s hair and having soft domestic moments felt natural. As if that calmness could be a vacation of its own.

 Why wouldn’t you daydream of that? It was cute.

Imagining kicking the Penguin’s butt was one thing, but picturing a casual day was really nice. It could happen.

I mean…I never thought I’d be comfortable kissing someone’s cheek without being awkward. And he’s definitely okay with it. You smiled at the thought. Feeling his emotions is a bonus then.

You smiled down into your textbook.

The assignment still incomplete and waiting.

Hearing a voice muffled in another room, your hands tensed.

Your guardian was probably on the phone again.

Just finish here, you thought.

The lightness in your chest seemed to fold in on itself and dissolve. It made your stomach feel heavy.

Dick and I are friends. That’s better than anything I could ask for. We get to see each other and talk when we can. Kissing his cheek is…common in cultures and holding hands—that’s just what we do. We trust each other. You pressed your lips together and thought, we’re soulmates. And he’s literally Robin.

Slouching in the chair, you fought the urge to kick the desk.

“I really need to focus.” You muttered.

The assignment involved vocabulary from history.

Forcing yourself to sit upright, you looked at the text.

Huh. This would put even Dick to sleep, you mused. It’s just copying down the definition. It’s boring, but easy. If only the definitions weren’t so long.

Your hand took up the pen and jotted down the correct words. Such a mundane and mind numbing task with the copying.

Each word hardly left an echo in your mind. Sounds of the pen scrawling over paper only made you more aware of how quiet it was in the study. How alone you were when for once you did not want to be.

You desired good, genuine company. Even in the tiniest amount. Something positive to outweigh the rest.

You could almost hear Dick. His voice memorized and unforgettable in your mind.

Dick had a book in his hand as he sat comfortably on the loveseat.

“I think your favorite part is next,” he said with his nose buried in the book’s pages.

Muscles in your hand cramped, but your wrote on. Writing faster meant it would be finished before you declared it stupid and overly boring.

“I can read it to you, if you’d like?”

“You would do that?” You asked.

“Sure.”

Your hand stilled after you set down the pen. Aches slowly leaving your muscles.

Assignment complete.

You sat back and inhaled slowly.

Hopping onto the cushion beside Dick, you snuggled into his side.

“Holy racing car, you’re fast.”

“My hand hurts a little, but it’ll be fine.”

Expecting him to read out loud, you were surprised by Dick drawing an invisible smiley face on your forehead.

A cozy feeling blossomed in your chest.

“What was that for?” You questioned and wrapped your arms around his middle.

“To keep your frown away.”

“I think it worked,” you said with a smile.

Imagination could only get so far if it remained in your mind.

Beautiful words and fanciful thoughts could remain hidden with emotions if you wanted or you could put them to use. Learn from them.

A new project? Was it a good time to start one?

It wasn’t as if your guardian would know.

✧ ✧ ✧

Monday afternoon at the Wayne Manor was business as usual. Bruce Wayne read quietly as his youthful ward, Dick Grayson, completed homework.

Smiling to himself, Dick closed his textbook.

“All finished?” Bruce asked.

“Yup. The equations weren’t so tough today.” Dick gathered his belongings.

“That’s good to hear.”

Heading out of the room, Dick announced, “I’ll be right back.”

Taking the steps in quick succession, he cleared the stairs on his way to his bedroom.

I bet (Y/N) can finish homework faster, he thought. Maybe not as fast as them guessing books.

On Saturday, they all had done just that in the manor. Teaming up and guessing stories by describing characters made time fly by. Almost too quickly for Dick.

All the happiness of Saturday made Sunday feel off. Dick presumed it was from your absence. With only your emotions to accompany him, he still missed you. Perhaps more so if he couldn’t sense anything.

Yet there was not phone call that night to soothe him.

He lost track of time and he figured you were watching a movie. One you were eager to see. He didn’t want to bother or interrupt.

Dick only hoped that your many emotions were the results of watching the television and nothing more.

Wishing the best for you was what he’d always done. Even prior to meeting you.

Knowing you made him want to share the best with you.

Dick Grayson’s smile returned.

Yes, his schoolwork was put away, but that only freed up space in his mind to think of his soulmate.

He knew why.

Holding hands and drinking milkshakes answered questions he didn’t know he had.

Dick Grayson had a crush on his soulmate. He’d had a crush for a while.

Being together on Saturday only solidified his realization. Holding hands more consciously than reflexively. You were closer, more open with each other.

To contain that knowledge and excitement was near impossible.

Dick was on the verge of telling Bruce.

Why not? He was so happy. He couldn’t keep that to himself. He shouldn’t have to.

I wonder what Bruce will think. The youth thought as he exited his room. I forgot to tell him. Gosh. How busy can we get?

Descending the stairs took him seconds.

Getting Bruce Wayne’s attention took less.

“Hey, Bruce?” The ward called as he returned to the sitting room.

“Yes? What is it, Dick?”

“(Y/N) is really swell.”

Bruce smirked as if he knew what was on the young man’s mind.

“And their smile is the brightest I’ve ever seen.” He sat down on the nearest armchair. “If you could mashup beautiful and handsome in one word—that’d be a word I’d use for them.”

“Both words can be used in exchange for the other depending on context.”

“Gosh, Bruce, I didn’t think of that, but…there should be another word that multiplies the meaning.”

“And why is that?”

“Because saying they’re good-looking after saying how intelligent they are doesn’t sound right..” Dick rested his chin on his hand. “I mean—they are lovely too.”

“Yes. You said as much yesterday and after they left on Saturday.” He smirked again.

“Oh.” His hands folded in his lap. “I guess, I did.”

“It’s alright, Dick.” Bruce reassured him. “It makes me wonder if I’m the only person you should be telling this to.”

His eyes widened. It hadn’t occurred to Dick to consider telling you how wonderful of a person you were. Well, in the right situation anyway. That was only half of it.

He’d never complimented you at that level in full.

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell (Y/N) how I feel—I know that sounds ridiculous. We sense each other’s emotions, for crying out loud!” He sighed, “The problem is: I don’t know where I’d start. They’re practically my best friend.”

“That’s not the worst problem to have.”

“I know. Having a soulmate is the complete opposite of a problem.”

Bruce smiled and stated, “You two get along very well.”

“And (Y/N) knows more about me than other students at school.” Dick chuckled to himself and added, “At the student council meeting today, I imagined what it’d be like with (Y/N) there. They’d have great ideas. I could take a good guess what their responses would have been too.”

Not many people had mentioned the word ‘soulmates’ at school, but Dick knew they would if you were there with him. He was confident he could handle it.

But what about you?

How would you feel about it?

How would you react to Dick’s developing emotions?

“Is it too soon to tell them? I don’t want to make them uncomfortable.”

“There is no set time frame,” said Bruce. “Your concern for them shows how much you care for their well-being. Keep that in mind as you move forward.”

“That’s just it,” Dick sighed. “I don’t know when, but I’d love to now.”

“Don’t stress too much on the subject, old chum. Trust in the connection you two have and let the rest come naturally.”

Sitting up straight, Dick said, “Gosh, you’re right, Bruce. I’m worrying about something that hasn’t happened. It’s silly.”

“But you care.”

Dick nodded.

Of course Dick Grayson cared about his soulmate. He cared deeply.

If he felt a fluctuation of negative emotions from you, he wanted to know the cause. To be there with you would surely allow him to offer help or support.

Glancing up at the time, he figured you were definitely working on something. Not that the time was his main clue, however your undulating feeling of frustration. Either way, he could only suppose.

Would it be alright to call now? Dick wondered as he yearned to hear from you. It’s not late. Heck, it’s early!

He wrung his hands together.

“May I use the phone?” Dick asked, arms posed and ready to move.

“You may.”

Dick didn’t need to be told twice.

Leaning over to the side table, he picked up the phone and dialed your number.

I should ask what they watched last night.

The phone rang on the other end.

Or if anything interesting happened in class. Or if that spider came back. It had a name—

“Hello?” Your guardian’s voice sounded.

“Hello. It’s Dick Grayson. Is—?”

“Hello! How are you?” They interrupted with enthusiasm.

“I’m well. Thank you. How—?”

“I haven’t heard from you in so long. You must all be so busy in that manor. I can only imagine how many charities are planned. My friend and I — we met in college — we’ve been trying to talk their sister into hosting an event later in the summer. I’d love it sooner, but those things take forever to plan. Don’t they?”

“I believe so.”

Dick sat down and wondered how he became reeled into the conversation.

“I feel as if it’s been too long since I’ve been to a dinner party. The one my neighbor held was more of a night out. We weren’t at her place long. They have a fabulous music room. Even a harp.” They sighed longingly. “I always wanted a music room, but we have the study instead. At this rate it’ll turn into a library.”

“(Y/N) loves to read,” Dick piped up, “and they love music.”

“Very true.” Their tone was flat, but attentive.

He took his chance, “Is (Y/N) there? May I speak to them?”

“They’re here.”

He smiled.

“But they can not use the phone—.”

“What? Why? Are they all right?” Dick gripped the phone tightly.

“Their phone privileges are suspended and they can not go out until their punishment is over.” They stated calmly; adding nothing further.

It was too calm for Dick’s liking.

“Alright, I understand.” He swallowed down his rising emotions. “Can you let them know I called, please?”

“Sure. Don’t be a stranger.”

Dick could picture their smile with their chirper voice. It irritated him as he hung up the phone.

“What is it, Dick?” Bruce asked, giving his ward his full attention.

“(Y/N) isn’t allowed to use the phone because they’re in trouble,” Dick wiped his palms on his trousers, “but I don’t know what they did.” Confusion and shock lingered in his voice.

“Oh.” He said softly. “You spoke with their guardian.”

“They didn’t even sound angry or…concerned. They were too busy talking about planning a party.”

“This is unexpected news.”

“You’re telling me.” He sat back with a huff.

“Dick, this maybe a good time to practice patience. Their punishment will not last forever.”

“But they’re innocent.” He leaned forward, fist hitting the chair. “I can’t—I won’t believe they did anything wrong.”

Bruce only nodded. There was not much else to say if they weren’t given even half a story for explanation.

It was out of their hands.

Dick didn’t know when he’d hear from you or see you next. He could only feel your emotions. He couldn’t do anything else. Again, he was powerless. Back to the beginning.

But they’re innocent. What could they have possibly done? Dick thought woefully. Now Aunt Harriet will have something else against their guardian. Not just spreading our secret. … How long do punishments last?

✧ ✧ ✧

Gotham City, peaceful and busy as usual. The end of the work week was approaching and most were thrilled for the upcoming weekend.

For you, the week was going by slowly at school and quick at home. A real drag, really. Not much in your favor. It was only Thursday and your to-do list grew.

I’m going to need to rewrite the to-do list, you thought, already picturing the side notes and scratch marks on the paper. Nearing the end of the semester and it’s a mess. Kind of like this week.

Stepping lively, you were well on your way to the Gotham City Library. The second stop on your search for a book. Your friend Lucy had recommended it the day before.

The end of year essay wasn’t going to write itself and what you needed wasn’t even in your school’s shelves. Even the book store near home was lacking, but you had checked first—just in case.

It was up to you to make it happen.

Too bad it had to include asking your guardian’s permission in the morning. In any other situation it would be fine, but there was the punishment clinging to your every move. Making you second guess yourself and your actions.

So you walked on. With the huge library in sight, you grew impatient, wanting the week to be over. Again.

How ridiculously repetitive.

At least the topic of your paper would ease away from that. It would give you something interesting to focus on.

For once, you just really needed to be anywhere but at home. A breather. Time to decompress and just be.

The trip to the library was a small piece of that. A library had much to offer to citizens after all.

✧ ✧ ✧

Just outside of Gotham City, inside the Wayne Manor, young Dick Grayson worked diligently on his school essay. Ever the prudent student.

Not many things could distract him from a goal. He was well versed in work ethic.

Yet there was for certain one thing that could make Dick rush out of a room.

“Excuse me, Master Dick.”

The youth peered up from his papers.

“A phone call from a certain soulmate.” Alfred smiled.

He leapt to his feet, shouting, “Holy rule breaking!”

“So it seems.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick said before tearing through the house to reach the phone. One of them at least.

Bruce Wayne was already pointing in the right direction as Dick peeled around the corner.

“Thank you!” Dick called over his shoulder.

Coming to a halt by a small table, Dick brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello? (Y/N)?” He did his best not to shout in his excitement. Dick was ever so eager to hear from you.

“Dick, hey,” your voice greeted him warmly.

A smile spread across the youth’s face.

“How are you? Your guardian said you weren’t allowed to use the phone. Are you not in trouble any more?”

“I’m okay,” you answered. “I…uh, I’m at the Gotham City Library—the big one. And technically, I shouldn’t be calling you.”

“You’re still in trouble? Why?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. My guardian hadn’t told anyone on the phone, so I figured that included you.”

“They told you that I called?”

“Only that you called.” You clarified. “They’re upset I missed a lunch with them and a friend of theirs on Saturday, that I hadn’t talked to them that week, and other ridiculous stuff that they chose now to pin against me.” You huffed, irritated.

“That’s terrible. They’re the one who couldn’t keep a secret. For a day.”

“It’ll be fine. They’re just embarrassed, I guess, that they had to make an excuse why I wasn’t with them for lunch. They’ll forget about it eventually or get over it.”

Dick held the phone closer.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” You said. “Just need to grab a book for the essay.”

Hmm. They don’t seem fine.

“What were you writing for your paper?” He asked, his mind coming up with a plan.

“Edgar Allan Poe writings.”

“Oh.”

“I’m hoping the book isn’t checked out here too.”

“Alright. You should go find it before someone else does.” He advised and checked the clock.

I’ve got time.

“True.”

It’s a huge library.

“Hopefully, we can talk again soon. I just wanted to call and not leave you with so any questions without answers.”

“Thanks.” Dick said. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been running in circles trying to figure out why you, of all people in the world, were in trouble.”

“Bad luck?”

“You don’t have bad luck.”

“Not with you.”

His shoulders relaxed and his smile softened.

“Anyway. I should go. I’ll miss you. Take care, okay?”

“I will. I hope you find everything.”

“Me too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, Dick Grayson felt no ill feelings for not saying how he’d miss you.

No, because Dick had decided on going to the same library.

“Hey, Bruce,” he said as he raced upstairs, “I have to go to the library.”

Practically flying through the manor, Dick retrieved his car keys, and headed back downstairs.

“Dick.”

The youth stopped in his tracks.

“We can not do anything about (Y/N)’s punishment because it is a personal household matter.”

“I know,” he replied despairingly. His whole body seemed to weigh down with the knowledge.

“Good and I trust you’ll help them the best of your ability without breaking the guidelines of their punishment.”

“I promise, Bruce,” he urged, “and I promise I’ll be back soon to work more on my paper.”

So Dick Grayson was on a solo mission. His goals were formed with good intentions.

Could he make it to the library in time to see you?

✧ ✧ ✧

Shelves of knowledge stood proud and ready for the minds of Gotham City. Its largest library had much to offer.

Peering around at the next aisle, you hoped you were in the correct section.

This makes my school’s library look like a forgotten storage room, you thought. At least it’s organized. No wonder Lucy told me I’d like it here. You snuck a peek at the spines of some books. And I also know why Lucy had to save Elliot—he’d get lost in a one-room apartment. You shook your head.

Your friends really were something else. Charming, full of personality, and very much a bunch of teenagers.

The same teenagers who thought you were pranking them when you mentioned your punishment. Too bad their laughter ended, you missed the sound. Yet their sudden change to rage may have added fuel to your inner rebellion. Perhaps a little.

In such a large library, you were definitely calmer than you would had been at home with your guardian.

Calm was soft within you, however there was a bubbling delight from Dick. Through your soulmate bond, it was feeling less muffled as it increased rapidly.

What is he doing? You wondered and read a few more spines of books, still searching. It might be on the other bookcase. This is still the beginning of the authors alphabetically.

You sighed.

Quietly, someone walked up beside you on your left.

“Jane Austen, huh?”

Your confusion hit you like a wall. You knew that voice.

Turning, you were instantly met with familiar bright blue eyes and a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Dick beamed. His excitement shining through.

“Are you crazy? I’m in trouble. If my guardian finds out you were here too, I’ll be worse off.”

“Are they here?” He glanced around rapidly.

“No.”

“They won’t find out.”

It scared you to think if otherwise they did.

Closing your eyes, you exhaled slowly.

Breathe. We’re fine. We’re okay.

“Are you upset I came?” He asked.

Your eyes snapped open and your shoulders dropped.

“No. Of course not.” You ducked your head. “I’m sorry. I’m just on edge because of everything at home and I’m tired. I don’t mean to push anything at you.”

Gently, Dick brought you into a hug. Keeping you close.

An almost reset to the scratchy emotions that plagued you happened. Setting you both back to calm. At ease in one another’s presence.

Pulling out of the hug, Dick suggested, “How about I help you find the right book?”

“That’d be great and much appreciated.”

The search was on.

It was the largest library in Gotham City. Where better to find the sources you needed?

“The Odyssey?” Dick read aloud.

“Not quite.” You smiled and continued searching the shelf below. “If we find any Shakespeare, we’ve gone too far. So no Othello either.”

“Hmph.”

“My friend Elliot was writing his essay about the creatures in The Odyssey, I think. Either that or the physics of the bow.” You shrugged. “Our teacher wouldn’t let Charlotte write about her treasure theories.”

“Treasure theories?”

“Hidden treasures, ancient texts, and stuff like that.”

“Cool.”

“I know. Too cool for the teacher, I guess.”

Both of you finished checking a whole bookcase before skipping over to the one further along the wall. Being thorough was an unspoken deal.

With Dick there, you could search twice as fast. Not that it was a race, however being as you both went left to right looking through two shelves—it mirrored a carnival game.

Your soulmate was solely focused on helping you find the right back. It was endearing.

Having gone through another week of unforeseen obstacles, you didn’t scold yourself from sneaking glances at him. You were curious of how he reacted to the world and its stories.

Dick Grayson was different than your other friends and those you spoke to at school. Super excitable and incredibly polite. He wasn’t one to gossip about other people to keep you in the know. There was a sincere gentleness instead of a bluntness with a hint of humor to soften the words.

Being around Dick, you were less inclined to feel out of place if you said something ‘weird’ or if you expressed how you had never done something. With him, you felt comfortable. As if the chance of looking or sounding odd was extremely low, so there was no need to second guess how you presented yourself.

Out of everyone in your life, your soulmate was the most unlikely person to ever make fun of you. No being the butt of a joke. No unnecessary comments because someone twisted your words. There was Dick’s unique personality and caring nature. And so much more.

I’m lucky we even met, you thought. He’s also The Boy Wonder in his spare time. Don’t know the odds of that.

Your fingers brushed passed the last book of that row.

“Still nothing. No Poe.”

“Ancient structures?” Dick read aloud before his gaze searched for you. There was a humorous lilt to his tone.

Shaking your head, you offered him a smile.

“What’s that doing here?”

He shrugged.

“Maybe next year I’ll write about those arches that stand against gravity with the power of math,” you mused and kneeled down to check more books.

“I don’t think that narrows it down. Which one?” He asked as he knelt down with you.

“The ones with all the same small rectangles except the top center piece. That one keeps it from moving or falling.”

“Oh. That would be much different than the one you’re writing now.”

“True, but my decision isn’t set in stone.”

Full grin appearing, Dick shook his head. It was hardly a disapproval.

“Did you set me up for that?” Inquired Dick.

“It was a last minute thought. If I preplanned it, you’d hopefully be laughing.”

“I would.”

“Alright.” You continued smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Why’s he so smiley today? We’ve barely done anything.

Remaining in the fiction section, there was almost an endless amount of stories to dive into. Adventures, mysteries, romances, thrillers, and poetry.

Only one was on your list.

We already passed Austen and Homer. Come on. Where is it? You thought.

That was when you saw it: Edgar Allan Poe.

Ah ha!

Dick’s attention was on your before you made a move for the book. No doubt sensing your thrill of finally finding what you were after.

“I was beginning to get worried,” you muttered.

Grabbing the book from the shelf, you flipped through to the table of contents and stood up.

“Oh, good. It has all of his works. I mean, obviously.”

You offered Dick to flip through it.

“The Complete Tales And Poems of Edgar Allan Poe,” he read. “Aren’t some of these stories sad?” He stood beside you.

“In a way, but mostly a darker tone than reading a theatrical tragedy. It’s the mood.”

He turned a few pages.

“Poe did have a lot of….sad times in his life.”

Closing the book and handing it back to you, Dick asked, “Why did you choose his works?”

“How about I give you a copy of my paper when I’m finished and you can get a different view?”

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle with his eagerness.

“Gee, really? I’d love to read it.”

Dick’s eagerness felt as if it collided and twisted with your own. Merging into a warmth that had you both smiling.

“Alright, but I have to write it first.” You said and walked around the bookcase.

Movement across the room made you freeze.

Someone was stuffing an old bust statue into their jacket. Two others nearby had shifting gazes.

Someone was up to no good in the library!

A criminal?

Retreating, you grabbed Dick’s arm and pulled him back behind the bookcase with you. You put a finger to your lips before pointing.

Dick peered between the shelf. As his eyes widened, so did his mouth. The first word forming.

No.

Acting swiftly, you covered his mouth before he could exclaim. You gave him a warning look.

He nodded as you lowered your hand.

“We need to warn someone,” you whispered.

Again, he nodded. Blue eyes watching the people’s every move. Taking in details.

Grabbing his hand, you gave a tug.

Come on. You can play crime-fighting later.

Thankfully, Dick took the hint.

With hands held tightly together and quiet steps, you both snuck your way to another area of the library. Watching your back, you both made sure you weren’t caught.

Surely two teenagers holding hands couldn’t be an alarming sight to the criminal lookouts. Nothing to raise suspicion.

Your actions did, however, catch the attention of a librarian. Dick was quick to lead you to their desk.

“Can I help you?” The librarian asked. Their expression softening when they saw the book in your hand.

“Yes, please.” You placed the book on the surface. “May I check out this book, please? And…uh…”

The librarian leaned closer, waiting.

“We saw someone stash one of the statues in their jacket.” Dick proclaimed with urgency. “There were three of them.”

“Oh my—three of them?” The librarian inquired.

“No.” Both Dick and yourself urged, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“People. Long jackets on.” You clarified.

“They were stealing.” Dick insisted.

Alarm lit in the adult’s eyes.

“Oh dear.” Fumbling and stamping, the librarian handed you back the book before picking up a telephone. Their eyes were trained somewhere behind you.

Before you could turn around, Dick had taken your hand and was leading you through another doorway. The two of you kept a hurried pace. Finished with business at the library, it was time to scurry away from any possible danger.

What are the odds? You wondered. Is it more from living in Gotham or him being Robin? Our timing? Day of the week?

Stepping out doors shook you from your thoughts with the afternoon light. Still hand in hand, you and Dick went down the library’s steps with practiced ease.

“Everything’s a surprise today, I guess.” You muttered.

“Hopefully that was all.” Said Dick as he lead you down the sidewalk at a slower pace. “I can drive you home.”

“What?” You looked to him baffled.

“If you want, I can dri—?”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“(Y/N),” Dick said gently and turned to you, “I want to make sure you get home safe. Driving you home isn’t a problem or a bother. It never will be.”

You knew that. For some reason your first response was never an answer.

The grip you had on his hand tightened.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m always glad to be with you.”

His words struck a cord in your chest. An area left alone to its own devices, quietly always wishing for something. Deep in that space in your heart, his words stretched and made themselves at home. Settling in warmly. Coating the area with something akin to recognition and affection.

What were you to do with that? No one had ever told you words so earnestly. None having to do with being in your company.

Always glad to be with me.

Finding your soulmate’s red car parked, he opened the passenger side door and let you sit before he made his way to the driver’s side.

He drove all the way here just to help me find this book. He got us away. He…he’s always there for me.

A burning threat of tears stung your eyes and you repressed them. You didn’t want to worry Dick.

Everything’s fine. You mentally told yourself while incoherent and fumbled feelings tried supplying unwanted thoughts into your head. It was not the right time to decipher those fully. Thoughts of how perhaps you weren’t doing enough.

Clicks of the seatbelts caught your attention enough to quiet subconscious worries.

Enjoy your time with him. Darn the punishment a little longer. You exhaled slowly.

“Are you alright?” Dick asked, worry lining his eyebrows. 

You peered over to him and decided to answer in full. “I’m better. Just…calming down.”

“You can listen to the radio if you’d like.” He turned the key in the ignition.

“Mmm. It’s been a few days.”

“Since what?”

“Since I’ve listened to the radio or a vinyl.” Seeing his confused gaze, you quickly added, “Because I feel like I shouldn’t because I’m grounded.”

Dick stared at you for a moment, car still parked. Not really speechless, no matter how silent he was then, but concerned. Blue eyes searching for an answer. No questions brought up.

Softly, you patted your thighs.

“Yup.” You muttered.

It’s just the radio. Should I just turn music on? You snuck a peek at the controls. Should I say something?

“Are you afraid you’ll be in more trouble or are you,” he swallowed and continued, “afraid something might happen at home?”

Heat filled your body uncomfortably. A fear you didn’t want to face head on.

“I’m just trying to make as little disturbance at home as possible. Blend in to the furniture, I guess.”

With a new frown, Dick sank further into his seat. “I’m sorry you have to do that. And I’m more sorry that I can’t do anything.” His voice dropped, “I wish I could.”

Your heart ached at his words.

How do I keep worrying him?

“You do more than enough. More than I could think of asking. I never know how to express how much that means to me.” You leaned closer, placing your hand on his arm. “But I’ll gladly think of a million ways on the ride home.”

A tiny smile curled his lips.

“I’ll be okay at home. I promise.”

Sighing with a short nod, Dick put the car in drive and safely pulled out onto the street.

A lift home from a caring soulmate. Gratitude passed around with smiles. The radio’s volume loud enough to combat the air rushing by.

How lucky could you two be?

About two blocks away from your destination, you felt your anxiety and worry growing.

“Dick.”

“(Y/N)?” He smiled. Mood lifted enough to not register yours as easily.

“Can you drop me off a block away? Please?”

Dark eyebrows shifting from surprise to concern, he asked, “A block? Why?”

“Because I don’t want to chance it. What if they’re home? What if a neighbor sees too and tells them?”

“Alright.”

There was no argument. No brushing off your list of concerns. It was refreshing and highly appreciated by yourself.

“Thank you.” You said as the car was stopped in a safe area.

I’m going to hug him like there’s no tomorrow.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reached across the center console as Dick did. A hug was shared tightly. Your chin on his shoulder as he did the same to you in return.

There was much joy radiated between, regardless of how bittersweet the situation. All accompanied by a hope that neither of you would be separated without communication for too long.

I feel bad that he’s the friend I want to see the most. But, you thought and slowly pulled away, he’s my soulmate.

You had missed him so much already with his genuine smiles and you were both a little too close to another criminal encounter. Being lucky and grateful, you thought of something. You could express a little more gratitude for him going into the city to help you. Something sweet. An action he would be okay with.

“Also.” You gently held his jawline between your hands. “If I may?”

His eyes widened, but he nodded. Keeping his arms on the center console.

“Thank you,” you kissed his right cheek, “and thank you.” You pressed a kiss to his other cheek.

Dick’s lips pulled into a wide smile.

Sparks and rolls of warm emotions informed you just how much your gesture affected him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Now get yourself home, okay?”

“I will.” He reached up and gave your hands a squeeze. “I’ll wait here until I see you’re going inside.”

“I’ll be quick.”

After eventually letting each other go, you gathered your belongings and stepped out of the car.

“Tell everyone I said ‘hi’, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“See yah,” you waved.

“Hopefully soon.” Dick waved back, still smiling.

✧ ✧ ✧

A busy afternoon led the young ward to return to the stately Wayne Manor.

Much work was to be done. The essay!

Flutters and waves of conflicting emotion left Dick Grayson in an odd state of contentment. Between his soulmate’s punishment, spending time with you, the criminal in the library, and the two kisses he received — Dick was a little dizzy. Happily so given the latter.

“Dick,” Bruce set down a book, “are you all right? You look lost in thought.”

“I’m fine.” Dick did a quick check, looking for his aunt. Walking to stand close to Bruce, he informed him of what he witnessed at the library.

They were both hushed in their exchange.

Thankfully, the police could handle it. They were fully capable of handling the criminals.

The youth leaned on the furniture. A little forlorn that he wouldn’t be suiting up as Robin, however content to remain home. His thoughts were still on his soulmate after all.

Dick smiled to himself.

Images of you searching books, holding his hand, and being close all ran through his mind like a movie he wanted on repeat. He enjoyed every moment.

If only they weren’t in trouble with their guardian, Dick thought with a pout. It’s ridiculous. He crossed his arms.

Peering over at his ward, Bruce inquired, “Did you help (Y/N) find what they were looking for prior to…seeing the pieces of art?”

The mere sound of your name lit a happy hum in the youth’s mood.

Perhaps that was Bruce’s purpose for mentioning you. He did know his ward well enough.

“I did. They chose to write about Edgar Allan Poe’s writings for their paper.”

“Intriguing choice.”

“I know.” Dick chuckled and added, “They’re going to let me read it when they’re finished.”

“Then it looks like you’ll be adding an essay to your summer reading list.”

“Sure will.”

Dick was more curious to read your essay. To read your thoughts and see how your words flowed across a page.

What would he learn? How would he feel? Should he give you something in return?

“Before you an read (Y/N)’s essay, you better work on your own.” Bruce advised.

Blue eyes widened in realization.

“I almost forgot. Thanks, Bruce.” He said bashfully. “Oh! And (Y/N) says ‘hi’.”

The man smiled. “Hopefully we can all greet each other in person.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking.” Dick exclaimed as he strode out of the room.

“Be patient, Dick.”

Patience. What’s patience going to do if their guardian decides to pick and choose when (Y/N) has been ‘bad’? What do they even tell (Y/N)? Are they mean or worse? Is it calm? And they were talking about parties instead of asking if I wanted to talk to (Y/N) or give me a chance to ask!

Trudging up the stairs didn’t last long as Dick made his way back to his room. A paper needed completing.

It was clear that Dick wasn’t happy with how your guardian had decided to handle things, but that was something he could not get involved in. No matter how desperately he wanted to. He wanted to ask why. He wanted to defend you. To find reason to it all. But he had to hold that in. If anything, it would add some fuel to any future punches as Robin. Relieve frustration.

Not the most healthy choice, but the thought might be present then. That and how you knew he was Robin. A completely different thought he was not ready to add to any time soon.

He’d save you from a day of stress and panic if he could. The last thing he wanted was to be the cause of it, again. That, he could control if it was only his words.

You two were separated and it felt different, tainted.

Dick just had to wait. Trusting you could take care of yourself. You had done so this long. The least he could do was be patient.

He saw on his bed with a soft sigh.

(Y/N) want to blend in to the furniture at home. What…what would (Y/N)’s guardian say if (Y/N) acted more…? He frowned. What have they told (Y/N) in the past?

The thoughts and images they produced made him feel uncomfortable. He was still unsure how to process your words from earlier. It only made him realize how little he knew of your home life.

But they promised they would be okay at home.

Sat with wondering thoughts, Dick Grayson knew he would pay even more attention to his soulmate’s guardian. Perhaps answers to his growing questions could be found without asking.

Who said he had to be dressed as Robin to find answers?

✧ ✧ ✧

Home. A place of rest, shelter, and essentials.

In Gotham City, a Friday evening could hold promises of fun and entertainment. The end of the work week.

Or the continuation of schoolwork for some.

Sitting on your bed beside your beloved Sir Hopps, you wrote something down onto the extra papers. Schoolwork off to the side. Writing your thoughts and more seemed to help. All of them kept in their own small keepsake box. Dated and filled with your inner most thoughts, feelings, and dreams. To get them out of yourself. All were addressed to your soulmate, however none were to leave the box. Not any time soon. You had wondered if you should stick them in a journal, easier to read through.

It helped when you only had your plush bunny to confide in. He was easier to talk to than most. Never told a secret in his blue fluffy life.

Sir Hopps and yourself were the only ones in the household who knew your trip to the library included more than finding a book.

Not that my guardian really cared. You thought. I don’t think they know who Poe is. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows?

No more trouble befell you at home. No added punishment.

You were left to your own activities.

That was good news as much as having the outline for your essay almost finished. Marking down where the sources from the book were to be placed practically made it a guide—easier. Added that you wrote snippets around them.

Holed up in your bedroom made writing and taking breaks feel more natural. You didn’t have to physically pretend it was difficult or that your hand cramped to justify your actions. There was no one to judge with eyes or words.

Sir Hopps certainly wasn’t going to voice criticism.

You were certainly calm in your room. So much so that you could sense Dick’s contentment.

He could be doing anything right now. Well…not anything. Writing or reading maybe.

Placing another note into the keepsake box, you closed it and hid it underneath your bed.

“I can’t wait until summer,” you murmured to Sir Hopps.

I shouldn’t be grounded for too much longer. Another week maybe. I’m still doing well in school. I haven’t even looked at ingredients for cookies.

You flicked at a piece of paper.

Maybe it’s a good thing Dick doesn’t visit here. You thought bitterly. My guardian isn’t always as fun s they sound. And Dick is…fun. He’s a close friend, trustworthy, caring—so caring—and so many other things. My soulmate. A warmth tickled your chest at the word. You smiled. He’s brave too. Generous. Intelligent.

What fun you two could have if given the chance?

You returned to lounging on your bed.

Tired from a day of school and more, you groaned at the sound of the phone ringing in another room.

No. You dropped your head onto the mattress. Are they playing phone tag or something?

It only rang once more.

A relief to you as well as an itching suspicion.

Hopefully it’s nothing.

In a matter of minutes, there was a knock on your door before it opened. Your guardian stepped in.

Sitting up, your heart leaped, all your senses on alert.

“That was Lauren. She invited us to see a movie.”

Charlotte’s mom. She’d been talking about convincing her mom to go.

Your guardian looked at you expectantly.

“Anyone home?” They asked.

“I’m allowed to go?” You questioned hesitantly.

“Yes, why?”

“I am grounded.”

There was a pause in their movements. A crease between their brows.

Are they serious?

They shrugged and replied, “And now it’s done with.” Heading out of your room, they left the door wide open. “Get ready for the movie, if you’re going.”

“I’m going.” You responded and rushed to your closet.

A punishment over?

An outing with others to watch a movie?

A wonder how fast your night could change by one person’s decision.

. . .

Movie theater seating to a soiree. A group of friends sat waiting for the show to begin. It was debatable who talked more: the teenagers or the adults.

You sat between your friends. Your guardian, Charlotte’s mom, and Nathaniel were on your left. On your right sat Charlotte, Lucy, and Lucy’s younger brother Roger.

All of which chatted amongst themselves. Each keen in their own right about the weekend ahead.

I guess I can be excited too, you thought. I’m not in trouble any more. Officially. I can have dessert again, watch the television on Sunday night, maybe bake something, and I can call Dick. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. Maybe more than me. Probably.

“You’re free now.” Charlotte rejoiced and squeezed your arm for a moment.

Reflectively, you stilled, however said, “Let’s not jinx it.”

“I won’t jinx anything.”

“Right. And who can’t write about their theories on hidden treasures?” Nathaniel leaned forward to question.

“Coincidence.”

“You shouldn’t have started writing it before it was approved,” you said. “But you could turn it into a book one day. Don’t waste it.”

“It would make a good story.” Lucy added.

“No. It was suppose to be my essay.” Charlotte whined and sat back in the seat.

“It’s okay.”

Charlotte sighed dramatically and turned to you.

You rose an eyebrow.

“How come you’re not writing yours about soulmates? I’m sure it would’ve been approved.”

“What? No.” Your quick response caught your friends’ attention.

“Why not? It could be a journey of how you and Grayson met and how your relationship blossomed. How the city found out. The drama. The secret dates—.”

“Dates? We’re not dating.”

“Really?”

“Well, do you consider doing homework and practicing different languages a date?” You laughed.

Beside you, Nathaniel chuckled.

“It would depend on what you’re whispering in the other languages.” Charlotte teased, snickering.

The others joined in. Perhaps not fully able to imagine you doing so.

“Hey, now.” You defended yourself. “It’s strictly what’s in the books…and Mister Wayne would know what we’re saying. But we’d probably say something silly.” A small laugh escaped you.

The thought of saying something in another language to Dick in the manor and it being purposely funny made you smile. But to say something flirtatious? What Charlotte was hinting at? That thought sent more uneasiness than butterflies in your stomach.

I couldn’t do that, you thought. That wouldn’t be right when Mister Wayne is usually right there. Or Mrs. Cooper! No, no, no. Absolutely not. Woo. And I’m pretty sure Dick would flush for a week straight. You slouched in the seat. Heck! I’d hide for a week straight! That wouldn’t be appropriate. We’re not like that.

Charlotte leaned over and added, “I did say ‘whisper’, you know.”

“Do you like like him?” Lucy asked.

Your hands wrung themselves into your sweater.

“He’s great. I just… We’re still getting to know one another. We’re friends.”

“It’s been more than two months. How much time do you need?” Charlotte inquired seriously.

“We’re not rushing anything,” you informed them. Heat rose to your neck uncomfortably. “We’re not expiring fruit. We don’t need to date or anything.”

“(Y/N) likes him.” Nathaniel declared.

Hushed laughter surrounded you and you sunk further into the seat.

Of course I like him. Just…not how they’re seeing it, you thought. He’s my best friend. He’s really great and sweet. I don’t… I’m still getting used to having someone like him in my life. Knowing he’s my soulmate is still something I have to tell myself is real.

You inwardly sighed in relief as the room’s lights dimmed low.

Just enjoy the movie. Listen to Nathaniel’s critique and we should all head home. Nothing has changed with Dick. Everything’s fine. You thought as you calmed yourself. He’s probably writing his essay though.

The film reel started and all talk in the theater dissipated. Audience members were treated to entertainment of screen and sound.

You were granted over an hour of doing absolutely nothing. A well needed break where all attention was focused elsewhere.

What a delight. A relief!

Hopefully the start of a much calmer week to come.

✧ ✧ ✧

A beautiful Sunday afternoon. Inside the Wayne Manor, young Dick Grayson was surrounded by notes and paper.

Having written in his room the days prior, he had decided to work on his end of term paper in the sitting room.

Open space, a couch, and a well appreciated plate of cookies. All the comforts a youth needed.

Once I finish this paper, it’s a huge step to spending summer break with (Y/N), thought Dick as he chewed a cookie. We could do so much. Swimming at the beach, visiting a museum, or going somewhere to eat or playing games.

Before he knew it, another school year would be over.

If he was this busy, he could rightly guess you were as well.

What else do they do whey they’re not busy? Do they read during the summer? He wondered. Maybe I can ask them to go somewhere over the summer. Just the two of us again. They seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. I hope. That milkshake was really good.

Reaching for his glass of milk, he took a long sip.

It was a rather easy day. Easy weekend overall. No unexpected visitors. No cases to solve. No charities to attend.

Dick set the glass of milk down as the phone rang on a side table.

Nearby, Alfred walked over to answer the phone. His voice hushed.

In his chest, Dick felt a tingling of excitement. Muffled and not his own, which only made him hope you had done something for yourself. For once.

Alfred directed his attention to the wide-eyed and hopeful youth.

“I’ll let him know.” The butler smiled. “It’s good to hear from you as well, (mx) (Y/N).”

Dick leapt to his feet before the older man could set the phone on the table’s surface or even say any more.

Chuckling, Alfred handed Dick the phone and walked away.

“Hello?” Dick asked, barely holding in his enthusiasm.

“Hey, Dick.” Your voice had a chipper tone. “How are you?”

How was he?

“I’m great. How are you? Are you home?” He rushed out his words.

The sound of your light laughter entered his ear and sent a grin to his face.

“I’m pretty good. Sitting in the study and eating some cookies.”

“Me too. The cookies, I mean.”

“Oh and,” you drew out the word. “I am officially no longer in trouble.”

“Holy relief!”

“Yeah. It was ridiculous, but it is what it is.” Your voice then raised suddenly for a second as you added, “And apparently it wasn’t all that important enough for my guardian to remember when getting an invitation.”

Dick shifted his weight on his feet.

“What do you mean? They forgot?”

“I think so… Doubt it. At least when they were on the phone Friday, they forgot. Charlotte’s mom called asking if we’d like to go see a movie. They basically brushed the whole punishment off when I reminded them.”

“That’s—.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Yes.” He gestured with his free hand sharply.

Good, he thought, they know, but I can’t believe it ended like that. Wait.

“Is your guardian there?” He asked.

“They’re still rummaging through their closet.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “You’re alright?”

“Yes. I told you that I would.”

“I know. I…” He frowned.

What did he think? What had he been feeling about the situation? Was it appropriate to tell you?

Breathing in, Dick decided it was not the time. Bruce had already told him Thursday that he couldn’t be involved in others’ household matter. I wasn’t his place. H was a teenager. Yet he was also your soulmate and friend.

“Dick?”

“I needed to know if you were all right.”

His voice was small. He feared you could sense the breaking in his heart at the very thought of you being fearful of attracting more punishment at home and of his fear of what the punishments could turn into.

Holding the phone with both hands, it was a struggle to hold back a wave of words.

Change the subject.

He swallowed as he sensed your warm emotions spreading up his throat from his chest. They were good feelings, but he could not name them then. Muffled, but there.

“We need a day without school related anything and do something together.” You said, interrupting the quiet. “Something fun. Simple maybe.”

“You could come over here.”

He was relieved by the sound of your suggestion.

“We can do whatever you want.”

At his words, Dick could almost feel Bruce’s gaze on the side of his head.

A short laugh greeted his ear from the phone. It eased a smile onto his lips.

“Sure.” You said. “I’ll think of something after I revise my paper. Can’t distract myself too much. The last week of school shouldn’t be too bad and I’m ready for it to be over.”

“If neither of us are busy the last week of school, we might be able to see each other.”

Dick, honestly, could hardly wait much longer to see you again. No school, no secrecy, and no necessary work. He’d take hours of a party or charity dinner if it meant spending real time with you.

You hummed, “That could work. I’ll be sure to ask my guardian ahead of time. Better yet, mention it and get them onboard with the idea before asking. They’re always weird about me not going out.”

He shook his head.

The guardian is like a multi-dimensional puzzle. Not the fun kind by the sounds of it. Only some times, hopefully.

“We’ll make a plan, then?” You inquired cheerfully.

“We will.”

“Cool. Okay, um. I have to get back to my paper and cookies.”

Dick snickered. He couldn’t help it. You helped bring it out of him.

“And so do you.” You added with an air of humor. “Then the next time we see each other I can catch you up on the spider drama at school and what happened to my friend Lucy after we saw a movie.”

“It’s a drama now?”

What could’ve happened? It was a spider!

“Yup. But you have to wait for the details.”

“Can the days go by any faster?”

“Cross your fingers and tell everyone I said ‘hi’.”

“I will. Talk to you soon.” He was practically bouncing on his feet.

“I’m just a phone call away.”

“Bye.” He held the phone a little longer.

“Bye, Dick.”

The call ended and the young ward felt like he swam through a river of different emotions. Overwhelming joy from hearing your voice, relief from knowing you were no longer under restrictions from punishment, frustration from hearing anything about your guardian in the past two weeks, worry form knowing you feared getting in more trouble from mundane actions, and building excitement knowing he could see you again soon.

It was a bit much, however conversations had the opportunity to be pushed anywhere. If it was with you, he’d gladly go.

Having already hung up the phone and sat back down, Dick Grayson faced the questioning gaze of Bruce Wayne.

“Everything is well with (Y/N), I hope?” Bruce’s question was punctuated with a tiny smile.

“Yes and they say ‘hi’ again.”

“Goodness me,” Aunt Harriet walked into the room, having overheard them. “It’s been far too long since they’ve came around here. Poor dear has been cooped up at home.”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “Just them and Sir Hopps.”

His aunt’s eyebrows pinched together. “Who’s Sir Hopps?”

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

~~~

Part 5 -> "A Walk Amongst Emotions"

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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Dick Grayson Taglist: @projectdreamwalker

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson soulmate au #dick grayson #richard grayson #60s Robin #batman tv series #where dreamers go

[mindfang-srevenge]

I'm still on the topic so here's Static's Official Dancestor Coffee Tier List, of which of course means ranking the Dancestors based on who's going to be the best to go out and get coffee with. Not strictly in a date sense; just in a hangout sense.

Aranea. Before she went power hungry she was a nice, genial woman who told rambling stories. She will ensure the conversation never falls flat, but also she will definitely notice when your eyes glaze over and she's completely used to it. She's just nice and chill and-- when not trying desperately to live up to Mindfang's shadow-- wants to be nice to other people. You have a positive experience getting coffee with Aranea and she seems completely genuine about it.

Porrim's a feminist! And you're going to know that Porrim is a feminist. But she has enough other hobbies that it waters down the extreme social justice (unlike Kankri, who has no other hobbies). She's probably working on a really cool sewing project and is willing to tell you all about it. She wears nice jewelry and nice makeup and has nice tattoos. She may try to ask you back to her place afterwards but will be nice about it and will understand if you say no. Anything that Porrim says seems to be absolutely genuine and she seems to give good advice.

Latula, who's a R4D SK4T3R G4L and will probably not be outright mean to you or anyone nearby during your coffee hangout, which is the absolute minimum. She will skateboard there and she will show you cool tricks. She's got a great taste in music. She's a little bit loud. There's a constant cloying background feeling that she's putting on a show to make you happy.

Rufioh. It's an amicable experience above all else. He probably does not try to ask you out or say anything that's out of line with the Hays Code. He's pleasant to be around, if not the most scintillating. He's an anime guy and I have known a lot of anime guys, which is both a positive and negative in and of itself. The hangout falls flat not because of either party's horrific douchebaggery (as there is with some dancestors) but just because you'd talked about everything you wanted to talk about. If you're charming enough, he might pay for your drink.

Cronus, and him ranking this high is definitely due to personal bias. Sure he's a sleazeball. Sure he's a creep. Sure he's at least mostly genetically Space Hitler. He's genuinely rated as "the worst character in Homestuck". But hear me out, I'd fall for the greaser gambit hook line and sinker with no puns intended. I am, unfortunately, the kind of gal who this shtick works on. This platonic coffee outing could willingly turn into a non-platonic coffee date.

Mituna? Listen he's my little guy but I'm kind of worried about him. He's kind of hyper already and also not a fantastic conversationalist. Keeps making uncomfortable sex puns, but is otherwise probably cool to hang out with. He has and can ride a skateboard, although I probably wouldn't ask him to do tricks. Probably has a phenomenal taste in music, maybe even better than Latula's. Potentially positive experience.

Kurloz, who's kind of the waypoint between positive and negative experiences. There's absolutely no conversation, he orders and then does not communicate anything else. You try to talk to him and he stares at you blankly. He's probably stoned. I'm not entirely sure that he can drink coffee because, again, his mouth is stitched shut and it's probably at least a little bit disturbing to look at! It's not the best you can do but it's also not the worst you can do.

Meenah. She doesn't want to be there and will tell you so herself. Keeps trying get you to join Multi-Level Marketing schemes she just made up. You give her money now, and she'll send you the product later. Gets a call halfway through the hangout, takes it then and there and loudly. You're not sure if it would be polite or impolite to leave, especially considering she's the heiress.

Meulin, who comes in visibly stoned and won't shut up about her ships. Listen, y'all, I can't stand the 2012 'all the feels' 'otp' shipping vernacular and I'm easily either annoyed or grossed out by ships. I'm not anti ship-- to each their own-- but I oftentimes actively avoid the culture. Meulin is shipping culture and cute squeaky voices condensed into one woman who also likes to pretend she's a cat sometimes. She knocks your drink off the table if you put it too close to the edge and then she laughs at you and then she wants to talk about how much she wants all of her friends to get together. She's got charts and you're down both your coffee and the next three hours.

Damara, but listen. She ranks low but she's a great character, the implications of almost everything about her are fascinating. Just . . . not someone I'd want to take out to coffee. She's undressing you with her eyes the entire time, especially when the coffee was meant to be entirely platonic. She keeps saying hard-to-decipher things in East Beforan that you're almost certain are weird and hypersexual, but you don't know enough East Beforan yourself to catch exactly what those little comments mean. All in all a lot of my issues with Mituna are the same issues I have with Damara- ie, hypersexuality-- but Damara is Worse about it. You manage to keep a conversation going but it's deeply uncomfortable the whole time.

Horuss, mostly because he's going to be weird and sweaty and twitchy the entire time. Also he's going to be absolutely terrible at making conversation. Dead silence, you can't really make eye contact because of the goggles, you can't tell where he's looking but you can tell that he's sweating bullets and keeps twitching around. Whatever he's looking at, it's almost never you. I'm not comfortable with the energy in this coffeeshop today.

Kankri (this is NOT a Kankri apprectiation space.). Bastard man. Dosen't shut up, and most definitely DOES NOT let you get a word in edgewise. Will not stop talking about how drinking coffee is somehow innately disrespectful to anti-deforestation efforts and the fact that his iced sugar disaster came in a plastic cup is deeply offensive to like everyone ever and then-- AND THEN!! He starts talking to every. single. passerby about all of the same things. Multiple people. Multiple hour rant. Did I mention he constantly carries-- AND USES-- a pay-attention-when-I'm-speaking whistle.

#homestuck #mindfang-srevenge #the dancestors #aranea serket #porrim maryam #latula pyrope #rufioh nitram #mituna captor #cronus ampora #kurloz makara #meenah peixes #meulin leijon #damara megido #horuss zahhak #kankri vantas

[fictionadventurer]

American Presidents as Blind Dates

George Washington: The perfect 18th-century man--handsome, well-dressed, fantastic dancer, excellent horseback rider. Unfortunately, he's a gold-digger.

Thomas Jefferson: He'd be thrilling and charming as a first date, very engaging intellectually and socially. But if you got to know him better you might notice something kind of...off. A hidden selfishness and cruel streak.

James Monroe: Jury's out on whether he was good-looking or not, but he liked dancing and music and fine dining, so he'd probably be a decent date.

John Quincy Adams: Great conversationalist. Brilliant and he knows it. Irascible. Not much of a sense of humor.

Andrew Jackson: A perfect Southern gentleman who's very concerned about protecting the honor of a lady. (But if you happen to be an opponent, watch out).

Martin Van Buren: No one knows, because this guy was an enigma.

James K. Polk: Would talk about nothing but politics. (Happened to marry a woman who talked about nothing but politics, so it worked out okay).

James Buchanan: Big, loud, charming, loves dancing, tells jokes, and is probably gay.

Abraham Lincoln: Awkward with women and prefers to be one of the guys.

Ulysses S. Grant: Not a great first impression, because he doesn't care much about clothes and is pretty rumpled. (Writes adorable love letters, though).

Rutherford B. Hayes: Charismatic, loves people, loves going to cultural events. Will probably take you to a lecture.

James Garfield: Extremely outgoing. Big, booming laugh. As likely to give you a bear hug as a handshake.

Chester Arthur: Amazing blind date. He's handsome, impeccably-dressed, and his entire job is wining and dining people. (That makes him a terrible husband, though).

Grover Cleveland: If you met him at a public event, he'd seem very cold and distant. In private, he'd be warm and funny (and he's great at doing impressions).

Benjamin Harrison: Amazing guy to take home to your parents. Extremely respectable. Pretty boring as a date, though.

Theodore Roosevelt: So exuberant and energetic you might get overwhelmed. Will take you hiking, and if you run into obstacles, you have to climb over it rather than go around. You'd better have a lot of energy if you want to hang out with him.

#history is awesome #presidential talk #i was gonna work from memory but i did wind up checking some transcripts #and it turns out she didn't even ask the question for a bunch of the ones i didn't remember #she seems much more cagey about asking the question to men or really to anyone who doesn't work at the library of congress #(shoutout to the woman working at the rutherford b. hayes presidential library who immediately understood and loved the question) #(your enthusiasm for this president makes you one of the most charming guests on the podcast) #the only one i fudged was james garfield #because she asked about his level of extroversion rather than his blind date potential #but the answer seemed to fit the personality side of the blind date question so i went with it #anyway i can see where the question can seem kind of weird but it's such a fun way to talk about the personality of these presidents #and i was appalled when the host mentioned that some people wanted her to drop it #do these people have no sense of humor? #this is an excellent way to learn history

[stargirlvinyl]

series 1 whoniverse dashboard simulator ( PART ONE HERE )

💓 TARD1S-companion

Gwyneth should've been at the club...

🥫 heymickeyyy Follow

Rose YOU should be at the club

#seriously please come home #I miss you

53 notes

🛸 doctorwho Follow

I know for a FACT that something is up with the government. They are hiding the man that changes faces. the man that shows up in history over and over again. he ASSASSINATED John F Kennedy and they want to HIDE THAT FROM YOU. he means death!!! all these recent spottings mean something very VERY BAD is about to happen. I pray for us all.

3 notes

👩 HarrietJones Follow

sometimes I question if this job is worth it.

#harriet's personal posts #all this alien shit I have to keep cleaning up

80130 notes

🗺️ historicalhornypoll Follow

🟦 timetraveler 🔁

This poll is in very poor taste.

#I voted charles. He was a nice man. Fantastic conversationalist #Think he was into me too

4012 notes

🥫 heymickeyyy Follow

Sometimes I wonder why we let members of the parliamentary system use this website as a diary

#harriet jones gets away with too much

130 notes

🟦 timetraveler 🔁 💓 TARD1S-companion

🟦 timetraveler

Rather invasive question, Yeah? Buy me a drink first, at least. You humans. Always so Nosy.

💓 TARD1S-companion 🔁

Anon he wants my boytoy so bad!! the tardis team tension is crazy

🟦 timetraveler 🔁

#This you? #Sorry Rosie. Got to defend my honor

67542 notes

🛰️ badwolfcorporation

We apologize for the interruptions in todays program. We're looking into how to improve our services to better fit audiences of every kind and background. If you have questions or concerns, please fill out the feedback form here. Thank you.

19960 notes

🚀 harknesstest

God I want to annoy him so fucking bad.

#doc tag #tardis liveblogs

60 notes

🟦 timetraveler 🔁 💓 TARD1S-companion

🚀 harknesstest

#Happy Leather Daddy Sunday

50,560 notes

🩻 thelasthuman

AITA for wanting to just LIVE? can't a woman THRIVE? God forbid a girlboss build her empire.

#Fuck all you fake bitches #I am the real queen #Rose tyler is a fake fraud

40 notes

🐦 jabeofcheem

Beautiful. I love the history of my people. 💚💚

80,240 notes

💓 TARD1S-companion

God knew I'd be too hot if I had a stable life so he made me poor 'n gave me raging daddy issues

#roses petals

3320 notes

#doctor who #long post #dereality #mine

[fantasyinallforms]

Hello fellow bagginshield enjoyer and fantastic author of fanfiction! I offer you part of my nonexistent soul (Bagginshield took it all years ago) for "Roadtrip" for the summer writing prompts, if you feel so inclined. If not totally fine with me!! Much love, -E 🍻

I DO FEEL VERY INCLINED! Thank you for the prompt. 🥰 I took some liberties with the road trip prompt, but I'm very happy with the results, and I hope you are too! It ended up being just shy of 2k.

This was for the FOTFics Summer Prompts event!

~~~~~~~~

Title- Wrong Path, Right Choice {T}

Bilbo sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. This was not at all how he wanted this trip to go. His GPS told him this was a shortcut through the wooded area. After driving for over an hour and not seeing any sign of…well, anything, he knew he was in trouble. He was only on this road trip because four months of intense writer's block had put a dead stop to his next novel. His editor recommended he take an adventurous holiday to get the juices flowing. Well recommended was a strong word. His editor and cousin Prim had a car and cabin in the mountains booked for him in under a week of his tentative agreement. He had started coming around to the idea as the trip approached. He didn't mind driving, and the scenery between Michel Delving and the Misty Mountains was beautiful. However, 30 hours in a car is still 30 hours in a car, and a lot can go wrong in that time. Like right now as he sat at the side of the road in a steaming car that would not start. Not that he wanted to try after the sound it made right before it died. The icing on top of the cake…no cell service. 

Bilbo got out of the car and did a cursory inspection of the vehicle. He couldn't tell you what he was looking for, but it seemed better (and maybe safer) than sitting in the car. Eventually, he just kicked the tire and sat on the trunk with his head in his hands. He had surprisingly little time to wallow in his misery when a beat-up dark blue truck pulled up behind him. Bilbo tensed.

"Hey, are you alright?" He was not expecting to hear a low, gruff baritone voice, and it temporarily shocked him out of his suspicion. 

"Yes, I'm fine. I don't know if I can say the same for the car." The man stepped fully out of the truck, and the look of him made Bilbo falter. He was very attractive. He had long silver-streaked black hair currently spilling out of a messy bun. He was big with broad shoulders and a stern disposition. Very fit but not in a bodybuilder way, more in a practical way. Bilbo looked back at the still-steaming engine to hide the shock and blush on his face. 

"Have you called a tow truck for it yet?" Bilbo couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just not a conversationalist. He sounded very matter-of-fact. He waited to hear Bilbo's explanation of no cell service before ducking his head back into the truck. “My name is Thorin Oakenshield, by the way.” He placed what looked like an odd walkie-talkie in his lap and walked to the front of the car to pop the hood. Bilbo was distracted by the way Thorin’s muscles seemed to ripple under the very thin shirt he was wearing. He sat there stupidly for a moment until he remembered himself.

“I’m Bilbo…..Baggins! Bilbo Baggins. Thank you for this?” He held up the little phone. “I’m not sure what it is or how to use it, however.” He felt the weight on the car shift as Thorin walked back around. 

“It’s a satellite phone. You should be able to use it like any regular handheld phone.” Bilbo was getting a little agitated by the man's clipped tone. 

“Well, thank you, but I don't have the number for a tow truck memorized.” Bilbo held the phone back to him with perhaps a little more attitude than usual. This was already a trying day, and his patience was thin enough already without being made to look the fool. 

“Press and hold three, that should call the forestry service. Tell them you’re half a mile past road marker 14 on the River Running Crossroad.” Thorin returned to his truck as Bilbo made the call. Twenty minutes and a frankly ridiculous amount of money later, a tow truck was on its way. The ETA was two hours. Bilbo let out a long-suffering sigh and leaned back onto the car's back windshield. He heard Thorin laugh for the first time since meeting him and sat back up. His annoyance overcame his manners, and he snapped a little. 

“I very much appreciate your assistance Mr. Oakenshield, but I’m not in the mood to be laughed at.” Bilbo hopped off the trunk and pushed the phone into Thorin’s chest. “You can go back to wherever it is you live and pat yourself on the back for your good samaritan work for the day.”  

“Let me guess. It’ll take two hours for the truck to arrive, and it costs three times as much as you thought it might.” Thorin sounded very sure of himself. 

“I…Yes,” Bilbo replied sourly. 

“Well, come on then, you might as well wait in the back of the truck. Better than standing around.” Thorin started walking back towards his truck. 

“Wait! You’re not leaving?” Despite his outburst, there was a pinch of relief in his voice. He was surrounded by dense trees on both sides of him, and if he was being honest, he had absolutely no idea where he was.

“It’ll be dark in less than an hour. Would you rather I left?” His voice conveyed he knew exactly what his response would be, and he scrambled over to the truck bed. He looked at it wearily. He had just met this mysterious mountain man and was apprehensive about climbing into a truck with him, regardless of how unbelievably attractive he was.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve noticed there are not a lot of people on this road. Why were you on it?” Thorin had the gall to look amused. 

“What were you doing on a forestry road? When Bilbo didn't answer, he replied to his first question, “Look up and northeast of here to your left. That’s a fire watch tower. My tower. You’re not the first to turn off on this road and break down. Most people stick to the Greenway, but an unlucky few split off.” 

“Wait, so you live up there?” Bilbo had to admit a place in the middle of nowhere with peace and quiet for weeks sounded like a dream. It intrigued him enough that he made to climb into the truck only to realize that no matter how you sliced it, he was far too short to climb into the back with any level of grace. He looked nervously at Thorin, who lost none of his previous amusement. In one effortless swoop, he picked up Bilbo by the hips and sat him on the tailgate before climbing in after him. 

“I live there half the year. I’m a fire lookout.”     

“Doesn't that get lonely?” 

“Not on days like this when I have people to rescue from their own bad decisions.” Thorin winked and reached into what Bilbo thought was a toolbox. “Soda?” Bilbo took the offered can and broke into a laugh. 

“Arnt you supposed to offer me a beer in a time like this?” He popped the tab and was grateful for anything to drink. He was incredibly thirsty, and this was caramel-colored gold. 

“Can't drink on the job,” Thorin replied, opening his own can and settling against the cooler with his legs stretched in front of him. Bilbo fiddled with his can. So was helping because he was obligated to do so. He had to admit he found that a little disappointing. They just sat and drank in comfortable silence, listing to the sounds of descending night. Soon it was pitch black outside, with the only light source being the stars overhead and the sliver of moon that could be seen in the sky. Bilbo leaned back and marveled at the sky. The last time he had seen so many stars was at his childhood home. He could still remember his father pointing out the constellations and his mother telling him their stories. He could almost forget he was sitting on the side of the road. Almost, until Thorin moved to sit next to him, the hard line of his body pressed against his side.

“The stars are clearer here than at home. Like someone painted them across the night sky.” 

“That sounds like it came from a book,” Thorin commented. 

Bilbo chuckled, “Maybe it will one day if I have something to say about it.” 

“So you’re a writer then?” Thorin asked. Bilbo shook his head yes. 

“Fantasy novels. Nothing so interesting as your job, but I love it.” Bilbo kept his eyes on the sky as he said it. “You must meet a lot of people in half a year. Do you make it a habit of sitting with all the people you rescue until the tow truck comes?” 

“Only the cute ones.” Thorin teased. Bilbo’s face turned scarlet, and he was grateful the darkness covered the blush on his face. 

“I bet you say that to all the cute boys you rescue.” 

“I do,” Thorin replied. Bilbo tensed a little involuntarily. “Which would bring my grand total to one.” When Bilbo turned his head to look at Thorin, and found his face incredibly near. “Unless that’s a ridiculous thing to say, in which case we can just go back to looking at stars.” Bilbo was not someone who took spontaneous leaps, but isn't that what this road trip was supposed to be about? He was starting to grow a sense of adventure. Hoping this wasn't a mistake, he closed the distance between them. Thorin made a surprised sound and quickly recovered until his hands were wrapped around his waist. This man was a good kisser. Bilbo had never been held more gingerly and solidly than in this moment. His hands found their way into the mane of hair on Thorin's head, pulling it out of the tie used to pull it back. He was practically in Thorin’s lap, now enjoying being lavished with deep kisses and soft touches. They made out in the back of the truck for about 10 minutes before the blinding light of the tow truck illuminated them. Bilbo groaned in disappointment. Thorin chuckled and affectionately smoothed the curls that had fallen into his face behind his head. He gave one last little peck before getting up and helping him out of the truck. Thorin went to speak to the truck driver, and Bilbo got all his necessities out of the trunk.

“Alright, here is a receipt and a number to call tomorrow. Let me know if you’re riding with me or your friend here.” He took the receipt and walked back over to Thorin. 

“Thank you for all your help and for…. He fumbled for the right words, and they never came. Here’s where I’m staying and my number if you’re curious or….” Bilbo was getting frustrated with his inability to form sentences. “Thank you for passing the time with me.” He decided to leave his embarrassing fumbling to that and turned to leave. A hand caught him around the forearm, and he stopped. 

“It takes two hours to get to the service station and only 45 minutes to the fire watch station. It’s getting pretty late, and you haven't even had dinner. I could take you to the service station in the morning. If that’s something you want?” Thorin’s face looked so hopeful, and Bilbo’s chest swelled. He shook his head in agreement, and Thorin beamed. The duffle bag in his hands was taken from him and thrown into the truck bed. 

“Hey, Bofur!” The truck driver looked up. “He won't need a ride!” The driver just gave a thumbs-up and a chuckle. They watched the tow truck pull away into the distance, and Bilbo climbed into Thorin's pickup.   

So what if he never ended up making it to that cabin Prim booked. This was a much more interesting adventure. 

~~~~~~~

I might post this one on AO3, idk yet. All of my drabbles will get posted at some point.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo x thorin #summer stories #fotfics #FIAF(me)fics

[sneasedtomeetyou]

[A Roto-Caster video starts with Casi and Amy relaxing in the living room. Casi is laying across Amy’s lap, both aimlessly scrolling through their phones. At one point Casi exhales through her nose, turning her phone and holding it up to her friend. “Hey check this one out.” 

We don’t see what the professor is being shown, we only hear their reply. “I’m pretty sure 52 children have shown me this Wooper.” 

Trying to pull the phone back, Casi fumbles the phone a bit, smacking herself in the chin. “Ack! Yeah well… Pretty sure I’m better than 52 children.” 

“Pretty sure?” They tease before their leg jerks underneath her. “Hey can you move a bit? My legs are falling asleep.” 

Casi replies with a short affirmative in Sinnohan that we don’t quite catch as he moves to instead cozy up against the brunette’s side. 

“Did you just call me sweetheart?”

She stares back at him, looking surprised, “I did. Should I not have?” 

“No,” Amy hums. “I kind of like it.” 

“Oh.”

A few beats of silence pass. The pair staring somewhat dumbfounded at one another before Casi finally decides to speak up again.

“I didn’t realize you knew what that word meant…” 

“Must have heard it somewhere.”

“Must have.” 

Fantastic conversationalists that they are the topic shifts with absolutely no provocation. 

“I saw that video of you with Slinky. How did you get him to move like that?” Amy asks, fidgeting with the phone in his hands. 

“Picked it up in Kanto? At least I think so…” She replies with a shrug.

“That’s not… possible. I came up with those and the only person who knew-” 

A distant thudding noise startles them both to attention. Oran turns to show Jaycé of all people lugging around an entire couch. They’re attempting to maneuver it towards the staircase. When they take notice of the Roto-Caster recording them they set the couch down and wave.

“Hiii. I’m invisible!” 

“Please don’t damage my floors by dragging around that damn thing.” Casi calls, getting to her feet and poking her head out into the hallway. “Can you let one of us help instead of doing this yourself?” 

“You’re five feet tall and Amy walks with a cane.” Jaycé retorts as the video ends.]

{ everyone in this house is confusing… what was all that? } 

#oran the roto-caster #professor amaryllis #moddedmoor #lore #pkmn irl

[mediocre-eternity]

Of all the cities and places you've visited, are there any that you think you could be happy living in indefinitely? Bonus points if it's not one you have lived in long term before

“Bonus points?” From where? Is this a meme? Lol please explain this phrase to me.

But to answer your question…

I really enjoy being a resident of New York City. I am a traveler by habit, something I share dearly with my companion, but I think he would also agree with me that NYC is where we will always have an address. New York City is the first city we settled in together and a place that is deeply, deeply familiar to us. Simultaneously, however, it is ever changing and Daniel and I need that consistency of chaos.

However, we are also a well known house in our neighborhood. We are good comrades with our neighbors to the right of us, Eric and Mohammad. Eric is a fantastic house builder and incredibly smart. He’s helped us with horrible pipe issues we’ve had down to just starting my car when it was too cold (I didn’t put enough gas in it, apparently). Mo is just a fantastic conversationalist. I really enjoy them both.

Our neighbor to the left is an elderly matriarch named Li Hua who’s brownstone is constantly filled with her family. She originally came to New York City from China when she was 22… she is 94 now. Her great grand children are hilarious. One of them had to introduce himself to us one night because he was so impressed with Daniel’s rotation of BMWs. Once in a while me and Li Hua wave to each other when we’re on our respective balconies. One night I asked why she’s able to stay up so late. “Oh, I always have,” she responded, so simply.

The rest of our street has probably named us an odd house though there’s a large threshold of weirdness that New Yorkers are willing to ignore. It’s easy to hide in New York City as a kindred and because of this, there is a numerous and thriving population of other vampires throughout the boroughs. I think I’ve carved out enough of a space for my coven in Brooklyn but we’ve made nice with more than a few of the others. A few gracious cousins have even brought Daniel back to me on more than one occasion. Typically, for NYC kindred the rule is “I won’t bother you, if you don’t bother me” but I’d be lying if there weren’t any meetings of any sort. There’s definitely a culture here. And a lot of them definitely know who we are.

I do miss Miami but there’s less of a stability there. Night Island is a haven for myself and Daniel. A toy box if you will. But as you’ve surely seen and read, a mere storm can wipe everything away in a night. Some years the tourists haven’t been as fun. Oh and recently, I got a phone call that some of our businesses on the Island are pulling away because of the lack of tourism all together. New York City is a consistency in our lives and Daniel has done a lot of recovery here. We’ll get the Island back though eventually, even if it devolves into just a villa on the sea. That would be fairly isolating though. Again, we really enjoy humans so much.

#thank yoooou #asks #anon #the vampire armand #the vampire chronicles #queen of the damned #daniel molloy #devil’s minion #night island

[chronurgy]

WIP Wednesday

Alright @rowanisawriter you asked for it! A snippet from my current wip under the cut:

Also if you want to play, consider yourself tagged!

So this is from a piece currently named "edited gortash pov vesper reunion" because I'm really good at titling things

They dip their head to acknowledge his point, a faint smile on their lips. Too calm a reaction, even for his talented old friend – that had certainly been a test. They had known of their heritage and wished to see if he had known as well. He wonders once more about those ingrates who swarm around them, wonders if they know the truth of their illustrious companion’s bloodline. He thinks it unlikely. Few in this world have the constitution not to flee before one of Bhaal’s spawn, have the genius to see the brilliant mind behind the bloody stories. He can, of course, but there are few men like him.

“I am glad to see you remain unbothered by it, dearest. I know many a Baldurian parent has been known to scare their rebellious children with tales of Bhaalspawn and the boorish are prone to claiming your kind as nothing but mad dogs meant for slaughter, but I’ve always found you to be well in control of yourself and a charming conversationalist to boot. There’s simply no need to despair over your birthright. It has certainly never prevented you from being my equal.” He wants to remind them that they’ll always have a place at his side. Regardless of the uninformed prejudices of the uninspired masses, regardless of how their companions might handle the twin reveals of their true nature and past activities, he will always want them. His virtuoso of a partner, his creative genius.

They're both soooo horrible. They're trying to manipulate him by asking him questions they already know the answers to just to see if he'll lie to them, he's phrasing things in the most manipulative way possible just to fuck with them - it's fantastic. They're such sicko freaks for each other and I loooove it

I'm finally approaching the end of this fic, though I'll need to do some clean up and edits even after I finish it, but I'm hoping to have it done in the next couple of weeks!

#my writing #wip wednesday

[hibiscera]

🤓🥪🎮 Mr. Mind!

🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your character chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

This is his emoji. It looks like him.

Mr. Mind is ANYTHING but shy. He's an absolute chatter box and probably has a little TOO much to say in any given situation. He's certainly not afraid to put himself out there and make himself known! How else is everyone supposed to tremble before his might!?

As such, even though he's a pain and, well, evil, he's actually a fantastic conversationalist. Sometimes downright pleasant to talk to if you can get him caught up in something.

🥪 SANDWICH — what does your character's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch?

One thing about Mr. Mind is, if there's food, he's eating. Caterpillar Grindset!

While he's not at all particular when it comes to food, he of course has a preference towards fruits. He's classic... he loves apples! Usually apples and other fruits are what his meals comprise of, from Lunch to Breakfast to Dinner, since they're easiest to obtain anyhow. Can't exactly have Mr. Atom stroll into a grocery store after all!

Though sometimes if Mr. Mind feels like it, he'll find a random human victim to use as a body to grab some meals at the grocery store. In which case if he can find a caprese salad that's his go-to. He LOVES caprese salad!!!

But all in all, with lunch he's pretty flexible! He just loves food!

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

"Media Consumption" first and foremost. That was practically all he had growing up alone on Venus! Listening to radio shows and broadcasts, reading stories and watching movies all from Earth! They were all his greatest companions while he was in isolation.

Venus also was just a huge library of information anyways, so he had a lot to occupy his time.

Second would be of course engineering and robotics. While it can be a little difficult with his little true legs... He finds ways around it! He engineered his little radio communicator himself. 🥰 And he spruced up Mr. Atom and bought him back to life, so to say! Him also being into programming goes hand in hand with this.

He's also definitely into things like chess... I think he leans a lot towards mental hobbies. He likes things that he can really show off his brilliant mind with!

#mir answers #bedruil #dc hc tag

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dr. Peter Andover x Reader || Drabble

So actually really liked this movie!! (Not like 2001 Maniacs, which I literally just watch cuz of Buckman, Boone and Harper) and I woke up today and had to write this! ^^ Also I LOVED Gage (A mean, sarcastic middle aged man?? I'm a little predictable haha XD) so I might have to write for him at some point ^^

Plot: As the clinic’s chef, making food for all the staff, live-in patients and visitors, it’s your job to keep them all full and healthy (Though you do slip and maybe give them a little too much comfort food, because the poor babes all need it). Its not easy, everyone has different dietary requirements, different tastes, and some don’t even want to eat they’re so scared…

But even harder then coordinating meals, though, would be taking care of poor exhausted, overworked Peter.

Warnings: Unadulterated fluff XD Can be seen as romantic or platonic ^^

It was late-late when the doctor finally rocked up to the kitchens- far past dinner time. Far past bedtime, in fact. But you knew he would be around at some point, so despite being tired, you had stuck around for him- you would rather make him something then have him crack open a pack of crackers for dinner. Besides, while you’re waiting, you can prepare breakfast for the next morning!

Peter sits down at one of the stools you usually sit at the peel potatoes, now, looking exhausted as ever, and you flick on the kettle immediately. He’s going to need a cuppa.  “Evening, Doc, what brings you to my office?” Your jibe succeeds in drawing a tired glare from him but your face is soft and warm, as you go into the pantry. “I’ll whip you up some mac and cheese, how’s that? You just sit there and rest up.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

~

As soon as you set the bowl down in front of him, its like something clicks in his brain- and it’s not hunger. A disapproving frown slips across your face because you know this look on him- and you’re not having it. No, no sir. “Uh, sorry, I just realised something… I- I need to return to my research. Thank you for dinner, but- “

“No.” Shaking your head, you sit down a seat away from him and sternly offer the spoon to him. “Eat now, then finish your work. You didn’t even come for lunch today, so I know you haven’t eaten for hours- you’re not leaving this room until this whole bowl is empty, yes?”

He looks deeply offended at your blunt bossiness - you don’t know why, this isn’t a new thing, - and opens his mouth to argue, pointedly avoiding the spoon. “No. Excuse me, my work is very important and if I don’t return to it those kids could be scarred for their whole lives, Y/N.”

“I know that,” You say softly, carefully. Because he’s right, of course he is, but so are you. “And only you can do it- which means we need you to stay alive, and part of that is a healthy diet here.”

Peter’s eyes flicker to the bowl of cheese in front of him before giving you a dubious sort of look. Like, seriously? “Healthy, you say?”

With a dismissive shrug, you gesture towards him with the spoon again. “I put broccoli in it, you’re getting veggies. They’re just gonna taste like cheese, though- because I’m a master in the culinary arts, sir.” You wink. “That’s why you hired me.”

Finally he gives a sigh and an eyeroll, and takes the spoon. “Fine, but may I have a notepad and pen, so I can write down what I need to do??”

“Nope,” You shake your head, resting your arms on the bench. “You’re gonna make conversation with me. Its good for you to socialise, and I promise- I’m a sparkling conversationalist. I may not get all your mega-brain science-y stuff, but my head-nodding abilities are superb.” And, also, you are just determined to get him to settle for a while. No work talking, no work thinking, no work full stop. For an hour, at least! You would be happy with an hour- more, would be fantastic, but you’re working on realistic goal setting here.

… When Peter just groans and starts his dinner, you smile. Hurray! No argument!

Only after he’s had a few bites, you pat his arm quickly and settle yourself facing him; At attention. “So, tell me- “Spoon halfway to his face, he stops; Raising his brows at you. You flash a grin, back. “What’s your favourite colour?” At this he full-on deadpans, making you elicit a little laugh. “Come on, now, I’m not teasing you here- I don’t know it!” And it wouldn’t hurt him to think about shit that doesn’t matter, a little.

“Black.”

Oh, bullshit. “It is not- and that’s not a colour.” He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, pink.” A warm smile spreads across your face, at that, and you nod while you let him eat some more.

“Alright cool, pink.” Picking up your tea, you go to take a sip before stopping short and glancing at Peter over the mug. “Like- innards, and stuff?”

That startles him, in fact you think that if he were drinking something at that moment then he would have choked. “No, not- “Setting the arm with the spoon down on the bench, he sets you with a stern look. “Like a softer pink then that. Like… a powder pink, actually.” He shrugs, returning to his mac and cheese.

“Hm, that is a nice colour.” You think out loud.

“What’s yours?” Peter asks, and you’re pleasantly surprised by him- he’s engaging!! You’re succeeding!

“Mine? Oh I guess… (Colour you like).”

“That’s a nice one, too.”

For a couple of minutes after that you stay silent, allowing him to eat more before you get up and uncover the bowl you have filled with setting dough on the other side of the bench. It should be ready, now. There are also 4 large pans ready to go in the oven when they’re filled, and a clean space next to all that. Humming, you chuck the t-towel you had covering the dough off to another bench and smile- looks perfect!

“Oh, what’s that?” Peter speaks up, and when you look up at him you see that he’s genuinely interested, straightened up to try and deduct what it is, or what it will be, for himself. You flash a smile, showing the inside of the bowl.

“I’m making cinnamon rolls for tomorrow! Figured everyone deserved a treat- “

“You think we always deserve a ‘treat’,” He rolls his eyes once again at you, but he’s grinning now.

“Hey,” You reply, sternly even so, a firm finger up in between you both and a grin across your lips as well. “You do.”

“Ha.” He scoffs, shaking his head as he turns away from you again as you turn to the sink, yourself. Okay, his self-image is the next thing you have to work on, you decide. For now though you’ll continue to work on him resting.

After washing your hands for a good 30 seconds, an idea occurs to you. And, taking a peak over your shoulder at the contents of his bowl, and seeing that it’s just about empty- only morsels remaining, you decide to go ahead with it. “Hey- why don’t you help me, Doc?”

“Wh- what?” Clearly he was already thinking about work again, returning to the drill in his mind, but you’re not having that - it’s only been 20 minutes! - as he looks to you a little startled. “You want me to what?”

“Help me! Its not that hard- c’mon, roll up your sleeves, wash your hands, and stand here.” You point to the spot next to you by the wide bench, and stand there patiently- showing that you’ll wait.

Hesitantly, he looks slowly from his bowl to you. “Should I clean my bowl first?... “

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it later.”

“Okay… “

Surprisingly he does as he’s told without complaint this time around, before joining you at the bench. Humming, you reach up and flick a shock of white hair off his forehead. “Now usually I’d insist you put on a hairnet, but I think we can make an exception this once.”

Giving another rare grin - that’s 2 in the last hour, and you’re finding that your worn-out boss is actually quite handsome when he does that. Well, he was always handsome, you’re not blind, but considering that that he doesn’t do it often, he’s got a very nice smile, - he shakes his head. “Thank god.”

The joking tone in his voice causes what feels like a blip to occur in your heartbeat, and you give a little laugh as you turn to the task at hand. “Okay, so what you’re going to do is get yourself a good clump of dough… like this… “You show him the right amount, and hand it to him before collecting yourself a clump. “Now we’re gonna roll it out into a long strip- like this!”

After demonstrating the action with the rolling pin, you hand the utensil to him and go in search of another to use yourself while he copies your actions with the dough. When you return you find yourself realising how close the two of you are standing, after all you can feel his body heat, but shake your head at yourself. “Alright, done, what next? I suppose there’s a paste we have to use?... Ah.” He nods, seeing the bowl that you also retrieved from the fridge while you were grabbing another rolling pin.

“Ta~ Da~!” You sigh, peeling away the glad wrap to reveal the cinnamon paste.

“I see. Very good.”

“Of course.” Handing Peter a brush for himself and dipping your own into the cinnamon paste, you then paint your strip with a good amount of the stuff- nice and generous, so whoever gets this roll will be quite pleased in the morning at breakfast. He does the same thing, focusing a little unnecessarily on how neat it looks, but you know- whatever makes him happy. A little tidiness is not going to hurt- so, whatever! “Just like that! Then we roll them up so they look right, and set them in the pan…. There! All done. Only… 18 more of those.” You say, gesturing to the rest of the pan with one hand on your hip after you both finish. “For this pan.” You add also, gesturing then to the others.

Peter blows air out of his cheeks and widens his eyes dramatically at the job, before reaching to get another handful of dough. “Well then we better get on with it.”

It takes you both a little over half an hour to get them all done, all the while you chatter to him about whatever comes to mind that’s not work related - other pastries he might like, your family back home, movies you’ve watched recently and recommendations for him, books he reads just for pleasure, etc, - and he really gets into it! He even laughs, and it fills you with so much happiness you beam at him.

Then when all the cinnamon rolls and pasted an rolled up and set in the oven, he asks if theirs anything else he can help with and you shake your head, brushing flour off your apron. “Nope, its bed time for you.”

“… excuse you?” He asks you slowly, and you can’t help but wonder how long it will be until he realises that you’re always right?? Goodness gracious. “I’m a grown man, I can decide when it’s time for bed for myself I think- “

“No, you can’t.” You shake your head- the idea quite amusing to you. “But that’s why you have me- now, do I have to march you there myself?”

Giving a heavy sigh, he turns and heads towards the door. “No… you do not… “

“That’s a good doctor- oh.” You tease, unable to stop yourself quite in time. He stops himself though, hearing it, and looks around to see you biting your lips to try and keep from grinning. “… Sorry…”  

A flicker of a grin flits across his face then- not quite another smile, but something mischievous, something almost wicked, for sure. “You just wait until your next appointment my dear, then you’ll see what a ‘good doctor’ I can be.”

At this your jaw drops, a slight grin pulling at the corner of your mouth at the same time. “Sir!”

“Yes?”

“Are you teasing me??”

He gives a shrug, making those eyes round and innocent. “I’ve no clue what you’re referring to Y/N, I merely said that the next time you need me I’ll be sure to attend to your needs to the best of my professional ability. I would never tease… “

“Uhuh… “You shake your head fondly. “Go to bed, doc. You’re going loopy.”

“Yes, dear.”

~ The next morning Dr Andover is actually at breakfast with everyone else, rather then stopping by a little later for a pop tart or a piece of toast. Some people are surprised and some are pleased to see him there.

When you bring out breakfast with the finagled help of Bauer and Gage, you’re surprised too to see him there- and pleased. You flash him a grin, a wink and a thumbs up like good job sir, I see you there trying.

“Ooh, pink,” Sarah smiles, picking a strip of delicious cinnamon roll off of her plate and noting the powder pink coloured glaze on top to the Doctor beside her. “Wonder why Y/N coloured them? It’s not Valentine’s day, or anything.”

“Oh, uh,” Andover grins at the roll he probably made, glazed his favourite colour by Y/N- causing Sarah to just about choke. Was that a smile??? She’s happy he’s happy, but- what in the world!??? “I’m not sure. Bit of a random choice, I agree.” He says, deciding not to explain - he himself doesn’t even really know why you did this, not that he’s complaining about the lovely gesture, - as he starts his breakfast.

“Hm… “Sarah hums, left watching the doctor in dubiousness, a half-amused grin on her face. “Yeah… “  

#Dr. Peter Andover x Reader Drabble #Dr Peter Andover x Reader #Dr Peter Andover #Dr Andover #Fear Clinic #X Reader #Drabble #Horror Villains #Horror

[happy-lemon]

Dearest Cornelia,

As summer inches its way toward autumn, Gilberto and I have been trying to wring as much pleasure out of the festival as possible. His favorite activity is the goal shootout because he eats, sleeps, and dreams about sports. When I first met him, I feared there wasn’t much else going on in his head, but he surprised me when he said his goal in life was to have a perfect body and a perfect mind. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, loves to read, and has shown an interest in learning how to cook. Also, he looks fantastic in sweatpants.

Your contented sister,

Agnes

#ts3 #thesims3 #the sims 3 #ts3 gameplay #ts3 storytelling #agnes in paradise #agnes crumplebottom #gilberto gonzalo #sunlit tides

[queenfox352]

“Who Waits For Love” Chapter 2 up now!

Hey, wonderful fandom! Exciting news! Chapter Two of our thrilling fanfiction "Who Waits For Love" is now up, ready to captivate your hearts! If you haven't already, make sure to check out Chapter One for a fantastic start to our story.

Teaser:   Naruto rose from his seat and walked over to them, his gaze shifting upwards to meet the taller, raven-haired man standing beside his girlfriend. “Hey, the name’s Naruto. You must be Sasuke,” he greeted, extending his hand for a firm shake.

“I am,” Sasuke replied, reciprocating the handshake with equal firmness. 

Naruto then glanced back at Hinata, his enthusiasm undeterred. “Looks like it’s just us. My friend bailed. Let’s go sit and chat!” He suggested, motioning for them to join him at the table.

As they took their seats at the table, the atmosphere shifted, brimming with a mix of excitement and curiosity. Hinata observed the two men, her heart filled with a hopeful anticipation of their connection deepening. Naruto, ever the conversationalist, started off with a lighthearted remark. “So, Sasuke, Hinata told me a lot about you. I hope you’re ready for the Naruto experience!” He exclaimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sasuke glanced at Naruto, his expression momentarily inscrutable before a small smirk curled on his lips. “The Naruto experience?” He mused, his eyes flicking between Hinata and Naruto. “Interesting. This is the first time Hinata has mentioned you,” Sasuke remarked, his tone slightly teasing. 

Link:  FF.net | AO3 | Wattpad   

Don't forget to leave your thoughts, comments, and reactions. Your feedback means the world to us! Enjoy the read and stay tuned for more thrilling chapters to come. Let the romance unfold!

#fanfic #sasuhina fanfic #fanfiction #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x hinata #sasuhina #naruhina #hinata hyuga #hinata #naruto #wattpad #read on ao3 #ao3

[oh-shinx]

SNOWBELLE SHELTER ADOPTION PROFILE

Nickname of Pokémon: Wingdings.

Species: Duskull.

(If hybrid/abnormal) Type: Ghost.

(Estimated) Age: ~2 years.

(Estimated) Level: 17.

Time in shelter: ~9 months.

Reason for being in the shelter: Abusive original trainer, blind.

Caretaking notes: Missing his eye, can still track spirit energy. Easily disoriented.

Comments of Rosie!!!: I met him on the first day of the event, and he and Gwen talked for hours!!!!!!!!!! Apparently he is really polite and a fantastic conversationalist!!!!!!!!!!!!! He also just hums and talks to himself a lot by all the cute noises he makes!!!!!!

#snowbelle shelter fundraiser #pokeblogging #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokemon #irl pkmn #irl pokemon #pkmn rp #ghost of lumiose

[munku-collar]

did Macavity have any little personality quirks that annoyed or endeared you?

This is a fantastic question i was about to go to sleep but I can't wait on this one (not proofread bc it's 130am)

He has an annoying (and cute) smug little smirk that pulls on the left side of his mouth when he thinks he's being funny. He loves to push buttons when he's in a really good mood so some teasing about whatever you're doing or saying and a dumb little joke to accompany it is commonplace. So irritating in an endearing way lol

He rolls his eyes a lot, which, fair, I do too lol. Unlike me though he doesn't really shake his head or anything when he does it. He'll keep his reaction to his eyes only. His eyes are very expressive but can also be very guarded when he's feeling quite in control. He will always look away or avoid eye contact when he feels vulnerable though and he has a hard time looking you in the eyes when talking about love. He's afraid to.

Loves to physically intimidate, both actually, when someone annoys him, or playfully if you're close with him. Crowds you against the wall or a nearby surface just to make you feel a little nervous and to focus on him, brushes a paw across your neck or shoulders. Often a segue for romance (and it fuckin works -.-)

Not afraid to let you know when he doesn't like something. "That's stupid." "Why do you enjoy this?" "I wouldn't be caught dead doing that." Lots of verbal complaints bordering on whining if his interest isn't piqued. Really fucking annoying honestly lol

Despite everything mentioned, he's not much of a conversationalist. Sits quietly most of the time, thinking and brooding. Quick to be annoyed and quick to sulk or grow distant. His two responses to turmoil are to lash out or shut down.

Impossibly stubborn. Really really irritatingly so. If he doesn't want to do something he will not do it. But at the same time if we got into a standoff of sorts or the silent treatment was on the table he would break first.

He has a warm laugh. It can be a little startling and there's this edge of excitement to it though that can make some uncomfortable. Makes your heart race in a way.

Frowns often and deeply or has an annoyed expression in general, and definitely some resting bitch face. But I enjoy his frown. It's endearing somehow. Same with his frustration face. He can burn a hole through something with its intensity but sometimes it makes him look younger than he is and it's just. Idk there's something about it

Bristles a lot. Like, kind of recoils if you catch him off guard with a subject he wasn't expecting lol. But for the most part does his best to appear stoic, always keeps up a certain image, especially around other cats. Moves quite gracefully but also so... the word unhinged comes to mind LOL like i dont know you just... always get the sense that he's on the prowl, that he has an endgoal in mind, whether it be something good or bad. Well i suppose the song says it itself: "movements like a snake." But he's quite large and can easily loom over others and it's just. Yeahhhhhhhh,,,,,,,, You know he's dangerous. You know he's capable. But also I look at him and just see this man desperately clinging to a sense of control. He's graceful by nature but the darkness he's been swallowed up by in his own mind and the bad patterns he's formed are constantly at odds with his true self and the mask he tries to wear. Idk it's hard to express. It's also sad and scary and hot at the same time 😔 like please get your shit together

This one is a little 🙃 and i try not to think about it but like the way he uses his paws is very similar to munkustrap, so definitely a family thing. There's a sharper edge to mac and more insistence, a little more force to it i guess but the way he reaches for your paw or pulls yours into his own, the way he brushes a thumb across your cheek or the way holds your paw when he's feeling very soft is unbelievably similar.

Talked about this one before but purrs so louuuuddddd so loud. You can feel the vibration of it so strongly if you're close enough. Can be a little off-putting if you're not used to it but i enjoyed it 🤷‍♀️

His aura in general is endearing and frustrating all at once. He's just an overwhelming presence in general. He makes you want to get close to him, like "please let me drown in you" but at the same time it's like "god get me away, you're too much." It's easy to lose your train of thought when trying to talk to him and he just riles you up in 10 different ways, makes you feel one thing and then something else a moment later. So yes. Very annoying and im strangling him with his own tail

I'll go back to exposing his asshole behavior another day but yes there are some bits of him that are loveable. Makes me a bit sad to think about

#my shit #cats the musical #cats 1998 #asks #macavity #macavity the mystery cat #demecavity #JH