#Early investment ideas
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personal-finance8 · 9 months ago
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total-drama-brainrot · 8 months ago
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How would Alejandro react to Assistant Noah complimenting the charmer for manipulating Sierra WITHOUT flirting with her + for tricking Sierra into embarrassing his boss (Chris Mclean)? 😎
Well. If Noah's complimenting Alejandro for his sabotage of Sierra in New York, the first thing he'd try to do is deny it entirely.
Despite being proud of his skills in manipulation, a lot of Alejandro's gameplan rides on him being seen as genuine and trustworthy by those around him - straight up admitting that he tricked Sierra into falling out of Chris' good graces would be a blow to the manifacutred image of a chivalrous and good-spirited Alejandro, which is what he presents himself in the early competition.
He does something along these lines to Heather when she calls him out for exactly this in the episode. Though, it's less outright denial and moreso redirection of her attention... via flirting... Speaking of Heather, the only reason Alejandro is fine with her suspicion/antagonism is because he knows that no one else is going to listen to her. If anything, Heather's "dislike" of him lends credence to his act - since any enemy of Heather's is automatically a friend of pretty much the rest of the cast.
Of course, Noah would see straight through the paper-thin lies, because he's got the same perspective as the audience (that is to say, he's got a third party perspective of the competiton and can easily recognise Alejandro as the season's main "villain", plus he's seen the confessionals) and, in all likelihood, had a hand in casting Alejandro in the first place to be the antagonist; of course he knows Alejandro's true colours.
So Alejandro would be met with a conflict of interests here; on the one hand, he's been given the perfect oppertunity to build a rapport with Chris' personal assistant, potentially ensuring himself some insider help for the competition at hand and - if he plays his cards right - knowledge and blackmail material on his competitors.
On the other hand, he'd have to drop his act to do so, which could be disasterous should any of his other castmates see and/or overhear.
Plus, Noah specifying that he's impressed that Alejandro can manipulate people without flirting would be a point of contention between the two, or at least a percieved jab at Alejandro. He's a very capable and very prideful person by nature, and Noah implying that he had previously assumed Alejandro only knew how to exploit people via seduction/flirting would absolutely be taken as an insult, even if it wasn't meant to be.
Though I doubt Alejandro would put two and two together in this instance and realise that it's just a round-about way of Noah asking him if all of the flirting he'd done towards Noah himself was an attempt at manipulation or not.
Personally I see this whole scenario being a poorly worded olive branch on Noah's part which Alejandro unintentionally snubs, thus cementing Noah's initial "dislike" and distrust of Alejandro.
As a result, Alejandro would fail to react at all, too overcome with indecision to reply in time before Noah's interest/investment in the conversation wavers and he walks away. Leaving Alejandro to stand there dumbly, wondering how Noah could so easily pick up on his schemes when everyone else (sans Heather) is clueless.
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stephaniebrownthespoiler · 1 year ago
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not enough Steph joins the batfam early aus that use the backstory from robin#101 in the world
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david-box · 1 month ago
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There's a certain something something to Bojack Horseman that makes it not really furry media despite ostensibly having all the elements it needs. I think I need to rewatch that Patricia Taxxon video bc for the life of me I cannot figure out what it is
#is it the art style? the content?#i feel like furry stuff today and furry stuff of the 90s i occasionally see and like disney robin hood is all on a continuum#like theres a timeline there#but bojack horseman is like. outside of that#but how???#it literally cant be#i just dont see it and think furry#i do remember the video mentioning sensory elements of furry content which#in all honesty#bojack horsman does Not do im my memory#like dog characters act like dogs but theyre not fluffy even if they technically are#funny how they confirmed horse characters have horse dicks tho. thats histerical love it 10/10 no notes#the art style is probably part of it a bit tho because every animal is just animal head + fur or feathers or whatever + normal human torso#regardless of anything#with no tail#except one scorpion#so its stylized but its not flexible like most furry stuff is#i dont wanna say it doesnt allude towards the autistic though because i really have no idea#might send her an ask#theres also the fact that the characters arent fursonas unless they reference someone specific and then they rarely are mesnt ro mean shiblt#beyond puns#like mr. pb isnt someone as a dog. hes a dog#but maybe all furry stuff is like that#i think the animal stuff in BH is meant to be entertaining and connect the audience to a certain reality where accidently winning a ski race#to become governor of california is possible in the same universe as serious decades long history of alcoholism#having the MC be a horse opens the door for him to drink comical levels of alcohol and be a former sitcom character in-universe#which is a) funny as fuck and b) makes it easier to stay invested as the show slowly but steadily tells you in season 1 early on that ->#things do matter in this show and the things you find funny are also frequently very real and we will tell tou what the difference is if#you listen. so theres that#hit tag limit gdnt
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ehlnofay · 1 year ago
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Efri thinks she’s found the library.
“Woah,” she says, letting the door swing shut behind her. (Loudly. The doors here are so heavy.) Her voice echoes off the stone walls. She feels like she’s stepped into some story, like an exaggerated version of what a mage’s college would be.
It’s not that she’s never heard of a library before or anything. She understands them, conceptually. But the most books she’s ever seen at once was the small set of shelves in Rorik’s manor, and even that blew her away the first time – all the pretty bindings and close-written words. This is –
The College library is something else. It’s a lot bigger than a set of shelves.
Winding, narrow hallways bend and squiggle around like a set of earthworms trying to squish together to make a solid shape with no gaps, and every single wall is lined with books. Each shelf is like a rainbow of covers and colours. Half the spines are thick as at least two fingers put together and written over with words she can’t read. Efri has to bring Sissel here. She’d lose her mind.
“Woah,” she says again, and steps further in to look at the books on the shelves. All the bindings in blacks and blues and browns. One has the title written down the spine in gold lettering that shines. She brings up a hand to touch it.
“What are you doing?” someone demands. Efri stops. She looks.
It’s a grumpy-looking orc man in a bright yellow tunic, glaring at her much fiercer than seems necessary for the crime of looking at books in a library. He looks like he might be old – his hair’s white enough that his beard’s the same colour as his sharp sticking-out teeth, and he’s wrinkly.  Efri wrinkles her nose and tells him, “I’m looking at the books.”
“Wash your hands first,” he barks, turning his much-too-angry glare on Efri’s hovering arms. “You look like the sort of person to have grubby fingers.”
It’s true, but Efri is offended anyway. She wipes her palms hard against her orange wool skirt. (The skirt is grey at the hem from playing in dirty snow. It does not make her any cleaner.)
“Who’re you?” she asks the rude man. “I haven’t met you yet.”
He does not stop scowling. Maybe he’s perpetually angry. Maybe he just has an unfortunate face. But he says, “I’m the Arcaeneum archivist. Urag gro-Shub.”
The Arcaeneum, that’s what the library’s called. Very fancy name. (Sissel will love it. And has Kazari been here yet? They might like it too. She’s pretty sure they can read, though probably not these fiddly little paper books.) “What’s an archivist?”
“I maintain the library.” The archivist Urag gro-Shub might be grumpy and not very nice but at least he didn’t do the thing where he sighed all annoyed at Efri’s question. “I choose when and to whom the books are lent, and I ensure they are not damaged. Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection, and it’s going to stay pristine.”
“Is that book hundreds of years old?” Efri asks, pointing to the showy tome with the writing in gold.
Urag barely glances at it, dark eyes flashing in the vague direction of her pointing finger and flashing back again. “No. That’s historical fiction written in 185. That copy was made within these last ten years.”
“You didn’t even look at it,” Efri says.
“Bejewelled Tragedy. Four hundred pages. Horrendously inaccurate. Frankly, it wasn’t worth acquiring in the first place. Feel free to look for yourself.”
Efri will take his word for it.
“This section is for the books that are up for purchase,” he tells her, gesturing. “The worthwhile ones – and the old ones, if those are what you’re looking for – are further in.”
Efri squints down the passages again, their bright lights and cosy winding walls. She can’t tell where this section ends and the next one starts. She feels like if she went any further into the library she’d get lost. She says, “Thanks. I’m Efri, by the way.”
“I know. You’re that kid who showed up.”
“One of,” Efri corrects.
Urag keeps talking, rolling right past like he didn’t hear her. “Don’t know why in the name of all that’s been called holy they let you in. You’d think this would be a step too far, even –” he huffs and snaps his jaw shut, tusks digging into his moustache. He says, “At any rate. You’re here now, and you’re subject to the same rules as everyone else. You treat these books as careful as if they were your own firstborn children, understand? And if there’s something you want to find – or especially take out of the Arcaeneum – you come talk to me.”
Efri nods obediently. What time would it be right now? The lecture Sissel went to was almost two hours, and it’s definitely only been about one. She asks, “Are there any books with pictures?”
She’s not sure if it’s just the shape of his mouth or if he’s sneering. Urag says, “That depends. Are you going to respect the books enough to try to read the words too?”
“That depends,” Efri retorts, nettled. (She gets that he’s protective of the collection, but there’s no need to be rude about it.) “Are your books going to teach me how to read?”
Urag stares.
“You can’t read,” he replies, sounding vaguely offended, as though she, at six years of age, had refused to attend the village school for the express purpose of spiting him four years later.
Efri pulls a book out of the shelf without looking at it, ignoring the way he huffs. There’s nothing embossed on the spine or the cover, but there’s a title scribbled on the first page. “That’s a B,” she says, pointing to the first letter of the first word, and then stops, squinting. Switches her focus to a different word. “That one says off.”
“Of,” Urag corrects over her shoulder.
Efri shrugs. She snaps the book shut and slips it back into its place on the shelf. “I can read a bit,” she says. “I know my letters and that. The books here are just big.”
And given that she’d failed to correctly identify of, even small stories might be a bit beyond her skill level.
Urag is quiet. Efri looks back at him, mostly expecting him to still be looking affronted, as though she’d stolen food out of his mouth and thrown it at a wall – instead he looks oddly, blankly thoughtful.
“We don’t have anything suitable for early readers,” he says, tapping his fingers against his leg. “That might be an oversight.”
Efri really doesn’t think it is. “It’s a big fancy library, right? I think it’s normal to just collect the big fancy books.” All the ones that are hundreds of years old, or about magic or important things, or both.
Urag’s knuckles rap against a buckle on his belt. He says, “No! First misconception. A worthwhile collection archives all the work on its focus possible. The Arcaeneum is a collection of knowledge in every form. Therefore, we have as many books as we can access, on all sorts of topics. Half of them aren’t even good!”
“You sell the bad ones,” Efri says, trying to follow.
“Some of them. If they’re wholly without merit. Mostly I sell duplicates. Or works no-one has ever used. There’s things to be learned from everything – if not now, later. I’ll think on it.”
He looks back at Efri, looking a bit like he might have forgot she was there. “Regardless. Do you need anything, or can I get back to work?”
He’s still all rude and prickly. Efri bristles a bit. “I wasn’t keeping you,” she says, flicking her eyes again over the strange and wandering walls.
Urag sighs again like he’s got any right to be annoyed with her, but then he asks, “Would you like a tour of the Arcaeneum?”
“Do you want to give it?”
“You’ve already distracted me,” he says. Adds less irritably, “And I enjoy a chance to show off the collection. Long as you don’t interrupt me.”
“I’m going to interrupt you,” Efri informs him. She doesn’t like to be told what to do.
She lets him show her the library.
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notemojustsad21 · 1 month ago
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I lowkey want to write a fanfic based off of my book. I can already imagine it it’s a slow burn coffee shop au 400k words enemies to lovers.
#tumblr fyp#books and reading#books#writing#author#fanfic#lol#I’m posting this instead of writing 😭#it would be like everyday Juliet gets coffee at a small shop called coffee break#and she orders something super long and pyra thinks it’s really annoying#and one day Juliet orders a regular black coffee and pyras like what no long order today princess#and she’s like making fun of Juliet for being rich and Juliet’s pissed bc all the long coffee orders were for her friend Ruban#and shes like is she calling me spoiled and she’s rich but it’s bc her dad made profit off of her older sisters death by making a podcast#about it and selling merch#Juliet doesn’t even know she’s a regular here so now she’s mad at pyra and starts ordering long and complicated orders for herself#and pyras now hates her bc she has to make the drinks#and so they do it like everyday until something happens to Juliet like her sister comes back to town and she misses a week of getting coffee#and Ruban comes in and orders his insanely long coffee order and pyra recognizes it and is like oh are you getting this for Juliet#like do you know her and rubans like no she’s my friend she always gets my coffee for me when we have early meeting or wtv#so pyra realizes and is like I’ve been hating on this random chick forever and I have no idea how she’s doing I can’t ask ruban or I’ll#sound insane#next time Juliet comes into the shop they’re doing their normal think yk but pyras not that invested anymore bc she knows about Juliet now#ummmm some other stuff happens but like that’s it#yap fest
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arolesbianism · 5 months ago
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Thinks abt Sif Odile duo looping au. When the two who can't read eachother for shit get thrown into the horrors together
#rat rambles#stars posting#my favorite sif relationship within the party is them and odile so I had to at least try rotating this idea in my head even if trying to#write these guys makes me anxious as hell#its just like. siffrin has such a complex around this middle age woman its both funny and sad to me#and odile just does not realize this and it creates such a rift between their understanding of eachother#they both care abt eachother so much but it's hard for them to bridge that gap sometimes#and its a weird situation imaging them looping together because idk if thatd help things or make them way worse#because siffrin is allergic to dealing with his own issues and odile struggles with addressing said issues when shes not certain of what#they are and since she's not particularly great at reading the emotional side of things she'd probably struggle a lot with that#its just interesting imagining how the two could potentially both grow closer and drift farther apart over the course of the loops#which applies to all duo looping aus but Im particularly invested in these two so theyre who Im thinking abt#like idk just something abt odile slowly realizing how sif sees her appeals to me deeply#also I like thinking abt early on stuff where it's more lighthearted and they get to have some fun in the early loope#I do think theres a lot of awkwardness in the air especially on siffrins end but I like to think theyd have a lil fun with it#for better or for worse in the long run#odile and siffrin sitting clueless as they hand craft a whole bunch of new things for siffrin to beat himself up over later#and odile as well I want her to realize that sif has been internalizing this shit and quietly spiral over it#anyways I need to to to bed now gn
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astrxealis · 1 year ago
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okay rambles but i started creatively writing in like ... 5th grade? and. oh god just a little encouragement to anyone looking to get into writing or insecure or whatnot, but HELLS, maybe it's to he expected with my (obviously) very young age and inexperience with writing then, but my writing was really. yeah. Yeah. but then i'm what... a lot older now, obviously, and my writing has gotten leagues better. i'm probably not a good example for this bcs childhood years development stuff are different etc etc BUT practicing writing more and whatnot really does go a long way :]
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·��#my writing in 2020 is a lot different than my writing now even! especially so compared to my writing from 2010s#reading a lot of media is also really important :] i always read a lot of books BUT i only started to really read poetry since the pandemic#which were uh basically my early teenage years so idk if i'm a good example for this bcs childhood brain development and stuff (???)#BUT STILL ..... playing games like ffxiv and being really invested in the lore and writing + reading more poems and being fascinated with#more authors and pieces of literature + expanding my general vocabulary knowledge whatnot ... it all really goes a long way!#oh man i'm pretty proud of myself actually. i do love my writing. as imperfect (as all things are) it is.#i had a lot of Pauses with writing throughout my uhh relatively short life thus far since i'm NOT yet an adult and all aha but yeah!#so bless ffxiv again for bringing back my writing spirit... and other medias and whatever <3#rn i have to thank bg3 for bringing back my Creative Spirit bcs i've been writing a lot more again and having/working on my creative ideas!!#okay i just wanted to ramble a bit lol ^_^ there!#idk my being a writer is very important to me. and my journey as one too.#i want to make a book one day! most feasibly would be to make a collection of short stories :] a bit similar to 'm is for magic' maybe bcs#i grew up with that lol neil gaiman i adore you <3#i have a very special original world in my head but i am a little selfish and want to keep them all to myself... oops. or who knows!#anyway i have a lot of ideas and i adore writing and literature sooo much <3#anyway. okay. leaving it here.#cheering on every writer author whatever out there !!! unless you're a sucky person of course yuck bigots but yeah ^^ <3#huge writing inspo for me is uhhhhhhhh. thinking#ffxiv! does ffxiv count. esp drk quests. and shb as a whole. and then... edgar allan poe? neil gaiman? yeah?#can't remember anyone else good gods but i love vivid and imaginative storytelling and writing descriptively :] a bit of prose but also#quite simple in its eloquence (???) unsure honestly oh gods anyway BYE rambles over apollo signing off beep boop AGHHHHH (screams)
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excessive-moisture · 2 years ago
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Holy fuck Her Ascendance has like an entire new page of comments
I want to write longfic again so bad why can't i have infinite time
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wise-life · 7 months ago
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7 Proven and Effective Strategies for Building a Retirement Nest Egg
Planning for a secure retirement is a critical aspect of financial health. Many people find themselves asking, “How do I start saving for retirement?” and “What are the best ways to build a retirement nest egg?” With the right strategies and guidance, these questions become less daunting. As a financial coach at Wise Life University, I’ve helped countless individuals navigate the complexities of…
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quiveringdeer · 1 year ago
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i giggled at your shikamaru fanart tags 😭😭 he does look like geto in that!! i think it's the luscious black hair and earrings combo 😭
I'm glad you can see it too and I'm not trippin!! I was like, who put that ugly gotee on my man!?? Then, oops not my man, carry on then. It doesn't look so bad on you Shikamaru 🫣🙃
Totally woulda stuck my foot in my mouth without your Naruto tag 😂
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mingos · 1 year ago
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youtube
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phagodyke · 1 year ago
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reading ttg is just reminding me that no soulmates trope will EVER beat watashi/ozu... oh your guys are in love? that's cute. mine arent but they meet in every single life to be best friends and annoy the shit out of each other <3
#thats their love language <3#romantic soulmates never rly does it for me but platonic???? yeaaaagh baby#i think as well im not usually invested in both the characters in the dynamic so it falls a little flat sometimes#but i LOOOOOVE ozu hes one of my blorbos of all time im squishing him like a squeaky dog toy#AND i rly love watashi too i can relate to him a lot. ruminators of the world flipping between superiority complexes + depression unite!!#theyre both flawed in such different ways and it makes their interactions so refreshing to me. its just so genuine!!!#anyway this is a great translation i love their dialogue and the translator rly nailed the tone of watashis internal monologue#i can see why its not for everyone but thats okay its just for meeee :3#im gonna watch yojouhan time machine blues once i finish it bc ive had it downloaded forever (<- since it released)#but ive been keeping it for when i need an emergency lift of spirits... save me ytmb...... ytmb save me.....#and these last few weeks have been dire so perhaps the time has come..#ykw thinking abt it baru and watashi are actually kinda similar personalities..... or not maybr im insane ❤️#i love the campal type of platonic soulmates too codependency my beloved <3<3<3#but a little conflict is needed to really seal the deal for me..... WAIIIITTT semi unrelated but i just had a drawing idea. woah#omg if i have energy in the next week i need to make this........no spoilers#sorry to keep circling back around but im rly glad im reading this right now. ttg always gets my attention just when i rly need to hear it#the number of times its fixed me god fucking bless. ok i need to prep some stuff for work + the weekend and then i can go to bed early#woohoooo. these cramps are Killing me#.diaries
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morningmee · 20 days ago
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Jack is flirting 🫦
FLIRTING!!!
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Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x06 Ruddy Gore
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collecting--stardust · 1 year ago
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Fucking hate that most of my motivation and inspiration comes at night on the worst possible day
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fear-is-truth · 28 days ago
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# BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S ❝SUGAR BABY❞ AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM — HCs
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warnings — slowburn. brief mentions of sex synopsis — being a broke college student that caught the attention of none other than bruce wayne a/n — this is the fluffy slowburn sfw version… the 18+ one is still in the works
──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
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it started when you were a broke college student in your early twenties, juggling classes, part-time jobs, and an unrelenting mountain of bills. bruce wayne, freshly thirty, was already a household name—gotham’s elusive billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist.
you first crossed paths at a charity gala, where you were working as a server, weaving through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes. you’d only seen bruce wayne in tabloids before, so when you caught him leaning against a marble pillar, watching you, you simply froze.
“you seem a little… distracted,” his eyes flicked to the tray you balanced expertly. “nervous, or just tired of all this nonsense?” you gave him a polite, slightly weary smile. “neither. just trying to get through the night without spilling on anyone important. still got a paper to finish.”
his lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t press further. at the end of the night, though, you found an obscene tip tucked beneath his empty glass—crisp hundred bills folded neatly, more money than you’d made all week.
weeks later, he appeared again—this time at a hole-in-the-wall café near campus where you worked part-time. it wasn’t his scene; he stuck out like a sore thumb in his tailored black coat, looking utterly out of place among the students.
he didn’t say much that first visit, just ordered black coffee and left another ridiculous tip. but he came back. again and again. sometimes he’d stay long enough for a brief conversation, other times he’d sit quietly in a corner, newspaper in hand. it wasn’t just the tips that stuck to you—it was the way he listened. bruce never made you feel small or dismissed your struggles, like so many others did.
when he first offered to help you financially, he did it with tact that left you room to preserve your pride. “you’re working too hard,” he said one evening. “let me take some of the weight off—just until things settle. consider it an investment in your future.” there was a sincerity in his voice that made it sound like a practical solution rather than a handout.
accepting his help wasn’t easy. you’d been so accustomed to clawing your way through life that the idea of someone else shouldering your burden felt unnatural. after days of hesitation, you finally agreed—but only on the condition that you’d pay him back one day. bruce had only nodded, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk, like he knew you never would.
he never made you feel indebted, though. if anything, he treated it like helping you was a privilege.
when your ancient car finally gave up, bruce didn’t even wait for you to ask for help. within the week, a sleek, brand-new model was delivered to your apartment, the keys tucked into an envelope with a simple note: you need something reliable. you tried to thank him, but he just waved it off. “just focus on getting where you need to go.”
your decrepit laptop, with its constant crashing and refusal to load anything on time, was next. one day, you came home to find a pristine, state-of-the-art model sitting on your desk, already set up and ready to use. you didn’t even have to ask.
bruce never demanded anything in return. the closest he came to asking for favours were the occasional lunches or dinners where he’d pick your brain about your studies, your ambitions, your dreams. he always seemed genuinely interested, never letting the conversation veer into anything too personal unless you led it there.
you realized over time that it wasn’t just the money, the gifts, or even the way he treated you like an equal—it was the steady presence he provided. bruce wasn’t there to fix your life or control it; he just wanted to make it a little easier. and somehow, that made all the difference.
when you stayed up late working on papers, bruce would sometimes settle on the couch nearby, a novel in his hands. he never intruded, but his quiet presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone. on particularly rough nights, he’d bring you a cup of tea without saying a word, setting it gently beside you before returning to his book.
on your birthday, he surprised you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers—something you’d mentioned in passing months ago—and a beautifully wrapped box containing a classic hermès birkin. the card attached to it read simply, “something to carry all those books in.”
his gifts were always thoughtful, never ostentatious in a way that would make you feel uneasy. designer coats, shoes, and bags—each impeccably tailored to your taste, yet discreet. the labels were always tucked away, hidden in folds and linings. they were things you could wear without being worried you’d get mugged. nothing about them screamed, “i have a sugar daddy.”
bruce never tried to “buy” your affection. you didn’t owe him anything—not in the transactional way most would expect. he just wanted to see you comfortable, to help you in ways that went beyond financial support. and, over time, you realized you cared for him too—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.
he had an uncanny ability to remember the smallest details about you. the way you took your coffee. the name of the professor whose lectures you dreaded. how the sound of rain on a window always calmed you. those little moments of attentiveness.
at first, bruce kept you at arm’s length emotionally, cautious about pulling you deeper into his complicated world. but as the months went by, as your late-night talks stretched into early mornings, it became clear that bruce didn’t see this as a favour or an obligation. he cared for you in a way that went far beyond surface-level kindness.
when you went through a bad breakup, he didn’t try to fix it or console you with empty platitudes. instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest.
it wasn’t long before the line between benefactor and friend blurred entirely. he was no longer just footing your bills or buying you thoughtful gifts—bruce got greedy. he didn’t just want to take care of you financially; he wanted all of you.
one night, you were venting about your professors, frustration pouring out in a messy jumble of words. bruce listened intently, brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving you his undivided attention.
“you’re too nice to me,” you blurted, the words slipping out like a spew of vomit. before doubt could creep in, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was a kiss that changed everything—as you half expected him to gently push you away, his hand came up to cradle your face, deepening it.
the kiss led to one thing, then another, and before you knew it, you were tangled together in his sheets, lost in his kisses, his touch, his quiet attention to your every reaction. bruce wasn’t just passionate; he was thorough in a way that unraveled you completely—it was hands down the best sex you’d ever had.
when you woke up the next morning, still tangled in his arms, a wave of uncertainty hit you. maybe it was nerves or overthinking, but you couldn’t stop wondering if you’d crossed a line you shouldn’t have. sensing your unease, bruce kissed your shoulder, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “i hope you know this changes nothing… we’re fine.”
and just like that, you became his official “sugar baby.” not that the dynamic between you two changed drastically—it simply gave bruce an excuse to really spoil you.
the secrecy was part of the thrill, but also a necessity. bruce wasn’t ready to let the world know, and truthfully, you weren’t either. the thought of being reduced to a tabloid headline or a shallow label like “sugar baby” or “sugar daddy” felt like a betrayal of the genuine connection you’d built.
he started sending you to your favourite spa on weekends, claiming you deserved a break from all the stress. when you protested that it was too much, he just shrugged. “self-care is important,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
your closet, which had been a collection of fast fashion and thrifted pieces, was slowly replaced with the row, max mara, burberry, and dior.
your jewelry collection grew as well. delicate van cleef & arpels bracelets, tiffany & co. pendants, and diamond-stud earrings from cartier found their way into your life. he gifted you a dainty rolex, understated yet stunning, with a cheeky note: “don’t be late to class.”
despite all of this, bruce was careful to ensure it never looked like you were “living large.” you stayed in your same modest apartment, though it was clear his influence was woven into the details: a state-of-the-art security system, upgrades to your furniture and appliances that made life a little easier.
dinners became a regular occurrence, whether it was a reservation at gotham’s most exclusive restaurant or an extravagant meal in his penthouse.
when you graduated, bruce was there, blending into the crowd in a simple black coat, inconspicuous among the sea of families and friends. you didn’t spot him at first—he wasn’t the type to draw attention when he didn’t want to—but when your eyes finally landed on his, he gave you the smallest of nods. after the ceremony, he approached you quietly, slipping a small velvet box into your hand. you opened it to reveal a key.
“what’s this for?” you asked, already overwhelmed, fingers trembling slightly. “your new apartment,” he replied simply. then, after a pause, “unless… you’d rather move in with me.”
from then on, everything changed. bruce wasn’t just your benefactor; he was your best friend, your confidant, and eventually, your lover.
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