#elite credit cards
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netincomesource · 1 month ago
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FintechZoom Best Travel Credit Cards for 2025: Top Picks Revealed
Discover FintechZoom best travel credit cards for 2025, featuring top picks that maximize rewards and benefits for every traveler. Travel credit cards are a game-changer for frequent travelers. The fintechzoom cards stand out for their unique benefits. right credit card can enhance your travel experience significantly.y offer exclusive perks like travel rewards, cash back, and peace of mind…
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z-moves · 1 year ago
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Card sleeve artwork from a Poppy Trading Card Game merchandise collection
Art by kirisAki (Twitter: kirisAki_works, kirisAki_29)
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kavurana · 1 month ago
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Compare the benefits of SBI Card Elite and SBI Card SimplySAVE to find the best option for your needs. Discover features like rewards, discounts, and lifestyle privileges offered by each card to make an informed choice. Explore which card suits your spending habits better.
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seat-safety-switch · 1 year ago
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"Hey, buddy, you've been hogging the Supercharger® long enough," emits the carrier signal of a Tesla owner. They're right to be upset. Ever since they opened up their fancy DC fast chargers to every Tom, Dick, and Ford owner, what was once a hoity-toity elite parking lot full of American-made economy cars is now full of a bunch of weird shitbags trying to fill up their batteries.
My electric car? Pretty much the same as yours: a 1974 Plymouth Fury III, with the original smog-coughing low-compression 400-cubic-inch V8 engine replaced with nearly a metric ton of golf-cart batteries I borrowed from the local country club. Hey, they weren't using any of them in the middle of November when I cut through the fence. Not to mention it's unethical for anyone to hoard valuable resources that could be used to reduce emissions, such as I am doing (unless you count the fact that this vehicle is still, somehow, leaking 10w40 motor oil from somewhere.)
The system isn't perfect. For instance, the "fast charge" system is not particularly fast. This is because it's an old Canadian Tire 12-volt boat battery maintainer that I've riveted onto the hood, and tricked the Tesla system into talking to. As far as the computer inside it knows, it's just a really stupid SUV. Before you blame me for being a charge hog, you must also know this: it is keeping my decrepit Galaxy Note smartphone alive, which hasn't had a working battery in it since that whole airplane fire snafu. And in turn, that phone is playing an educational podcast, about climate destroyers. This, I believe, is what the Tesla owner is actually angry about, and not the fact that I have been "fast charging" for the last seventeen hours using a stolen credit card.
I ignore him. I have long ago learned that pedestrians talk a lot of shit, but are generally afraid to actually damage my car: an emergency tetanus shot, after all, is unpleasant and can cost upwards of $25. Walking back inside the donut store at which I am "parked," I ask the attendant to refill my bottomless coffee once more. Maybe I'll live here, I think. I don't want to go anywhere more than about five miles away from this charger from now on.
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cassidyandonlycassidy · 8 months ago
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no one man should have all that power
miguel o'hara x reader
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words: 2k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, NONCON!, RAPE!, size difference (canon, miguel just big as hell), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dark!miguel, p in v sex, threats, mentions of anal, cleaning lady!reader, attempted rape by not miguel/attempted mugging
your focus is half on your phone playing the local news through your headphones, and half on scrubbing down the sink in front of you. 
you don't move on until it's spotless. perfectly clean. you're willing to use every tool in your arsenal considering this is your pickiest client.
you are about to spray down the shower and allow the chemicals to soak and do part of the work for you, when the news anchor shifts the conversation.
“and to discuss the issue of spiderman, please welcome nypd captain charleston and queens resident andrea roberts.”
your attention shifts fully to your phone. andrea begins, a sweet looking older lady who explains that spiderman saved her from being mugged. you feel your heart beat faster when they flash images of him on screen, his wide shoulders, dark black and red suit hugging his body and abs.
“and what happens when spiderman begins to ask for something in return? he saves you from being mugged, but then demands a payment. what happens when he starts to use his powers for evil instead of good? we must focus on unmasking him and stopping his crusade of the city. no one man should have all that power.”
you have to reach quickly to shut your phone off, powering down the screen and turning off the captains words as your client enters the bathroom.
“almost done?” she asks, a frown on her overfilled lips, shining with a lipgloss to distract from the fact that her skin is almost painfully stretched.
“yes ma’am.” you nod. “just the shower is left.”
“hmm…” you wait for her to find a critique, even the tiniest speck of dust that you missed, but she's unable to as she sighs dramatically. “i have a party to get to. see yourself out, the door will lock behind you.”
“and payment?” you hate having to ask just from the way her eyes turn dark, clearly annoyed with your questions, and while she may be one of your worst clients, she's also one of your best paying. 
“on the kitchen counter.” she says before turning on her bright red heels and stomping away.
you sigh and turn your phone back on, frowning when you realize the spiderman coverage is already over before turning your attention to the shower.
--
you're whistling to yourself as you head home, needing the music to keep you from deciding to just pass out on the nearest bench, and you don't dare put your headphones in after the sun has set.
a full day of cleaning apartments from the elite of the city, and now you have to head back to your tiny one.
you clutch your tote bag further into your side, knowing there's cash from the few clients who refuse to prepay with a credit card until they see the work you've done, despite never leaving a client unsatisfied.
“hey pretty lady.” you're used to the cat calls, so you just keep walking past the man, not acknowledging him even when you hear him push off the wall and follow you, footsteps heavy and far too close for your liking.
“i said hey!” he shouts, voice turning aggressive. you look around, but there's no one else on the empty street but a few distant cars. “bitch, you gonna be nice and say hello back?”
the man grips your shoulder and forces your feet to stop. your eyes widen as you come face to face with him, his eyes furious and breath smelling of alcohol.
“hello.” you whisper out, hoping that's all it will take for him to leave you alone, but of course it's not as he shoves you into the dark alley between two apartment buildings.
“since you wanna be a bitch, you can get on your knees and suck my dick.” he's too strong as he shoves you down onto your knees, roughly hitting the pavement as you cry out, hoping someone hears you.
“and you can give me all your money too, whore.”
“now that's not a way to talk to a woman.” 
the voice makes both of you jump as you turn to see spiderman emerge out of the shadows, even taller than you pictured him.
the drunk man scatters before spiderman can get any closer.
“th-thank you, spiderman.” you know you must sound pathetic right now, voice breathy and still on your knees as he steps closer.
when his hand reaches down, you don't hesitate to place your hand in his and allow him to pull you to your feet.
“are you alright?” his voice is soft and smooth like butter and it makes you swoon even more.
“thanks to you.” you know you're blushing as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, one hand still clasped in his.
“and what about thanks?” spiderman leans down. “would you give me a kiss to thank me?”
“i-yes.” you don't think about what it means as the area around his mouth and chin disintegrates, showing off his strong jaw and plump lips.
despite him being almost bent over, you still have to raise yourself onto your tiptoes to press your lips against his.
the kiss that you meant to be soft and sweet is quickly intensified as he pulls you up, arms wrapping around you to hold you effortlessly in the air as his mouth devours yours.
“wait!” you pull away, eyes widening when you realize that at some point the rest of the disguise covering his face has also been pulled away.
he's even more handsome than you could have imagined. perfect cheekbones leading to a strong nose, his eyes big and brown, showing all the intensity behind them.
“what?” he huffs out, annoyed that the kiss ended so soon.
“i-i don't even know your name.” you admit shyly. while you're alright with giving spiderman a soft kiss as a thank you, you're not sure how you feel about the hot and heavy make out session.
“im spiderman, isn't that enough?” he frowns at you, wishing you would just shut up so he can do as he pleases.
“i-”
spiderman leans back in, attacking your lips with his. you don't know what to do, your feet are so far off the ground, and his arms are holding you so tight to his defined chest.
you relax and just allow it to happen, allow his mouth to press kiss after kiss against yours.
you let out a gasp when spidermans hand grips your chest, shifting your weight to one arm around your waist.
the open mouth allows his tongue to push inside, dominating the kiss in a whole new way as his palm rubs against your boobs.
“i-” you try to pull away, but to no avail as he's not willing to let you out of the kiss. 
spiderman moves until your back is pressed against the brick wall, his other hand dropping to your ass, holding you up that way instead.
his hand is so big, fingers stretching so far that he only has to press a bit more between your thighs to be against your pussy.
“how else are you gonna thank me, pretty?” he asks, finally letting you take a deep breath, his hand still squeezing your tits over your shirt.
“i don't want to do this anymore!” you squeal out now that you're able to talk.
“what?” his voice turns dark. “i saved you and you don't want to thank me?”
“i just want to go home!” you plead. you know there's no point in screaming or trying to run.
“not until you give me a proper thank you.” he growls out. “but since im feeling nice tonight, ill let you choose. should i fuck you or settle just for you sucking me off?”
“you can't do this!” you try to wiggle out of his hold, but he's too strong. 
“i can. who is gonna stop me?” the chuckle that escapes his mouth sounds like pure evil.
“i know what you look like! ill tell everyone. ill go to the news, to the police-”
“you think they'll believe you? im spiderman. i rule this city.” he shakes his head like he's disappointed in you for even mentioning it.
“but-” he continues on. “since you've taken so long to answer, ill just have to fuck you.”
you manage to get out one yell, one shout, one plead for no before spidermans mouth is back on yours.
his hand does move to cup your pussy, thick fingers sliding against your core. you feel your pussy wetten from the movements, traitorous and betraying your true intentions.
you whimper against his lips as your pants are ripped away along with your underwear, literally tearing them easily off your body.
he must have disintegrated or called back part of his suit, you have no idea how the technology works, and you certainly have no interest in figuring it out now as you feel his cock slide through your folds.
spiderman has to pull away to slide you lower, your back moving down the brick wall as his strong hands guide your hips until his cock is against your entrance, poking in.
“you're- you're too big.” you try again to plead with him. “you'll tear me in half.”
he just shrugs, a smirk even twitching at the corner of his lips as he pushes you down, hips rising up to sink you down onto his cock.
you cry out, head falling back as he continues to move, feeling like it's never ending as he continues to split your insides to make room for him.
“shit!” spiderman shouts out. “you're so tight.”
you want to say it's because you're not turned on, that you don't truly want this, but you don't want to anger him even more as his hips begin to thrust up into you.
you cry out, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. it's not as painful after a minute, your pussy adjusting to his length and girth as he fucks you without abandon.
spiderman steps away from the wall and switches so his back is pressed against it as he begins to move you up and down, using you as he would a toy to pleasure himself, but instead of thrusting into plastic, he's pushing repeatedly into your cunt.
you lean forward, hands balancing against his defined chest, needing the stability as your body is forced into taking his cock.
“please!” you cry out.
“quit crying or it'll get worse.” you're not sure how it could get worse until the hand on his hip moves, moving between your ass cheeks and pressing a finger against your other hole.
“im sorry.” you quickly say, looking up in fear that just spews spiderman faster, pumping you up and down without even breaking a sweat.
“so warm and wet.” he smiles down. “are you sure you don't want this?”
you stay silent, hoping the experience ends soon as you feel his cock swelling inside of you, pushing against your walls.
“you gonna cum with me?” he asks, other hand reaching to swirl around your clit. you wish his rough fingertip didn't feel so good against your sensitive bud.
“i don't want to.” you whimper out, entire body slumping forward as you struggle to remain in control, feeling your hips begin to shake and the way your cunt clenches around his length.
“you're gonna. come on.” the bouncing, the movement of your body up and down and the way you're practically speared onto his cock is all too much as you let out a squeal, cumming hard just as spiderman does as well, shooting his seed inside of you, feeling like it's right into your womb from how deep it is.
“oh, fuck.” he moans out. “now that was a good thank you.”
he pulls you off his cock and places you back onto the ground where your legs instantly crumple, landing in a heap against the concrete.
“don't forget your bag.” spiderman kicks your tote bag that had fallen off your shoulder towards you, spewing the cash all over the ground.
you look up at him, fear no longer in your eyes, replaced with anger and disgust. you know nothing will happen to him, but from this moment on, taking down spiderman will be your only goal.
no one man should have all that power.
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eyesfullofsttars · 2 months ago
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Abigail Anderson. Who doesn’t know her name? From birth, she’s lived in a world most people can only dream of. Ellie ran the numbers once—out of pure curiosity, really. Even if the Andersons spent a million dollars a month, their fortune would last for five centuries. Five hundred years of wealth. Who even needs that much money? Apparently, Abby does. After all, being Jerry Anderson’s daughter—and, according to the tabloids Ellie definitely didn’t read on purpose—the most eligible bachelorette comes with a certain lifestyle.
Ellie always knew Abby was rich; it wasn’t exactly a secret. Abigail didn’t bother hiding it, either. She’d grin, shrug, and say, “Oh, babe, we’re not rich, just comfortable,” as if that kind of comfort was the norm. To Ellie, who grew up under Joel’s roof with her sister Sarah, Abby’s life felt like it belonged in another... reality. Now Ellie found herself trying not to drown in her university classes while studying astrophysics and taking advanced calculus, all while playing gigs with her band, still in awe of how she’d ended up here.
Because seriously, if you’d told Ellie that her Abby—the same girl she’s been hooking up with for months—would be painted as this perfect, untouchable debutante, the brilliant art history major, lacrosse team captain at some elite all-girls’ school, a natural at sailing yachts, and armed with an unlimited credit card, Ellie probably would’ve laughed until her ribs really hurt...
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sasaranurude · 9 months ago
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Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."
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I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.
Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.
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He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.
The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.
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There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!
In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar
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At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.
And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)
Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.
Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.
So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.
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yall-batman-fanfic · 2 months ago
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The Billionaire's Wife | Bruce Wayne/Batman x  Magician!Reader
Synopsis: After seeing an article that reduces her to some typical “billionaire’s wife” with a lot of sexism, offensive gender roles, and instigations of a gold-digger, Vivian finds her footing in the complex world of Gotham's elite and realizes that she doesn't always have to be the demure wife who smiles a lot, and she will show them that no one messes with her, especially in her own house.
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Vivian sighed as she read the headline on the online article that greeted her on her browser-news. MRS. VIVIAN PRYOR WAYNE, A LIVING RAGS TO RICHES STORY by some contributor to Gotham Gazette's online articles. She's been reading the article for some time now and has memorized every line with how much she's scrolled through it. At some point she just slammed her laptop shut because she felt like she was adding to the page's traffic which only boosts the press to write such stuff. 
God, she didn't understand why this was happening again. The first time it happened was when she was just dating Bruce. People started writing how chummy they were during the second take of her book launch, and how Bruce was spoiling her with gifts that she was living every woman's dream by going on yacht trips, michelin star restaurants, luxury brand gifts, and a handsome man that had a reputation for being a playboy. 
Opening her laptop again, Vivian groaned and read through the article to figure out how they even got that shot and how they thought that her day going shopping with Bruce and Tim, and having the man carry majority of the shopping bags full of clothes and school things for the new addition of Tim to their home became “Mrs. Vivian Wayne dragging billionaire Bruce Wayne and his credit card through Gotham's shopping district.”
First of all: She was Vivian Pryor-Wayne. She just sticks to “Vivian Pryor” for her books and her teaching, and other things but since marrying she was legally Vivian Pryor Wayne. She just uses Vivian Pryor for her professional name and for her books. She willingly added the name Wayne to her name to show her love. As a joke she would call Bruce “Mr. Pryor” which he doesn't mind at all.
Second: she does not drag Bruce and his credit cards around the shopping district. She has her own black credit cards, all of which she pays on her own hard-earned cash. 
Third: How did they not see Tim in that photo? The kid was right there with here. She was holding his hand! And they really should have blurred his face since he was a minor. She'll be talking to their lawyers about this later.
“Everything alright, Viv?” Tim came down, all dressed up for school.
“Yes!” Vivian slammed her laptop to hide the article. “Everything is fine. Why wouldn't it be fine?”
She didn't seem fine. Tim and Alfred exchanged looks before he took his place across from her and Alfred placed breakfast on the table. 
“Okay,” Tim took a bite of his toast. He watched her for a while, noticing how she drummed her fingers on the surface of her laptop and the contemplative look on her face, that looked like she was planning a murder. Tim would know. He's been working with Batman for a while now as Robin, and before that he's been a really good detective with learning who Batman and Robin really were. “Is it about the thing?”
“What thing?”
Tim gave her a sympathetic look. “We all know that's not real… it's just the press making gossip to give people to talk about.”
“I don't even know what you're talking about,” Vivian drank her coffee.
Tim sighed. What is it with the people in Wayne Manor? It seems stubbornness and pride were a common denominator with all of them. “I saw the article, Viv.”
Vivian was quiet for a time, eating her jam on toast before asking, “Does Bruce, know?”
“The fact that you asked, and the fact that he's not here telling this yourself means he doesn't.”
Vivian sighed and looked at him with a small smile, “Save the detective work after school, okay?”
Tim grinned and shrugged. “It's second nature by now. But seriously, Viv, we all know it's not true. I was there, remember? And I've been living here for a while now to know that what you and Bruce have is real and special.”
Vivian got up and walked around the table and embraced him from behind, “Thanks, Timmy.”
“Anytime, Vivian,” Tim smiled.
“You're heading to work now?” Bruce entered the room all dressed for work.
“I am,” Vivian squeezed Tim's shoulder, a message to not mention anything to Bruce. 
“This early?” Bruce slightly frowned. He got up quite late and wasn't able to have breakfast with her.
“We already spent enough time earlier before I got out of bed to get ready,” she kissed his cheek. “I'll make it up to you when I drop by your office after work for our three-o'clock meeting for the Wayne Foundation event.”
“Alright,” Bruce took her hand just as she was going to leave with her bag, and pulled her down for a kiss. Tim rolled his eyes and focused on his breakfast, while Alfred just focused on packing her lunch and extra coffee. After tasting the coffee that Gotham University had in their campus lounge, he started packing her a thermos of coffee that would satisfy her for the day. “Have fun at work.”
“I will! You too – and Tim, have fun at school!”
After thanking Alfred for the packed lunch and coffee, and the discreet way of saying, “all will be well,”, Vivian left. It was only when they were sure she won't be coming back for something that Bruce spoke, asking, “What's wrong?”
“As always, Sir, nothing gets past you,” said Alfred.
“What's wrong? Vivian didn't even finish her breakfast,” Bruce pointed out. She always cleans her plate before leaving. 
“Nor did she steal from the cookie jar before leaving,” Tim added.
“Nor did she give you as much attention as you required before going to the office,” Alfred jests.
Bruce only looked at the two, waiting for an answer. Alfred was a tough nut to crack, but Tim…
While Tim would put the mission first and Bruce trusts him with Batman's identity – he is Robin now after all – he can't always hide something from Bruce when it comes to Vivian. Especially when placed in a hotseat. But later, as he grows older and becomes more independent, he starts to learn how to keep things from Bruce regarding Vivian. As long as it wasn't life threatening. 
“There was an article online,” Tim sighed. “Sorry, Alfred, I know I wasn't supposed to but…”
“Not to worry, Master Timothy. It takes more than just fighting crime in a bird costume to stand up to your commanding officer. You'll one day learn that sometimes it's alright to give them a good smack.”
“Is that what you did when you served?”
“Tim,” Bruce told him to continue. 
“It's an article on Gotham Gazette – you know those anonymous writers they have to write some tabloid bullsh –”
“Master Timothy!”
“Sorry, Alfred — but you get the point.”
“What's this article about?” Bruce opened his laptop that he had beside him to check. 
“You'll know when you see it.”
And he did. The moment Bruce opened the Gotham Gazette's website. While it was for supposed to be showing current news on Gotham, such as the latest bank robbery by Two-Face which Batman and Robin stopped, or some new thing the new District Attorney was going on about, the headlining article on the homepage was the photo of them three with the photo's caption making him frown. 
Is that what Gotham was painting a picture of his wife? Some gold digger? Bruce thought as he read the article. It infuriated him that they were making such stories based off of stone shots, especially when Vivian has proven so many times that she was a hard working woman, that she was more than just a “billionaire's wife”. The title itself was offensive since she was more than just Bruce Wayne's wife. Before they married — hell, before they dated she was already building her name in her profession. She got a couple of Doctorates under her belt, wrote books and studies, and has contributed works into Gotham City's historical archives. She was awarded by the mayor for her works that depict Gothams City's history! Aside from that she's been an active contributor to Wayne Foundation charities, both the Thomas Wayne Foundation and the Martha Wayne Foundation. A part of her profit from the books she gives to charities to help Gotham City.
“I'm heading to work. Alfred, I'll leave Tim with you,” said Bruce as he got up.
“Very well, Sir,” Alfred sighed as Bruce left with his things and drove off. “I know now who I'm not telling where I hid the biscuit jar next time nor the shotgun.”
Tim sighed. “Oh brother.”
~*~
Walking through Wayne Enterprises’ building, Vivian tried her hardest to ignore the looks she was getting from some of the staff walking about. She would still greet them with a smile and a “hello”, but after that she would try not to notice the look on their faces that says they saw the article. Maybe she should have just taken the stairs than go through the long walk to the elevator. She'd gladly just open a portal to the floor itself then go through this long walk. But it would be too suspicious if she were found to be on the floor so suddenly. 
“Mrs. Wayne!” One of the members of the board appeared. “Vivian, heading up?”
Vivian kept the smile, “Hi William. Yes, I'm going to see Bruce.”
“Special visit?” He gave a suggestive look.
“No. We have a meeting with the Wayne Foundation for the charity event this coming Friday.”
“Is that so?”
She hoped that was the end of it or that the elevator would end their talk but William hopped into the elevator just as she was going to press the doors to close. William Earle was one of the people Vivian didn't like that much that was part of Wayne Enterprises’ board. Since she started coming over he would always make rude comments, such as, “you should come over more and loosen up Bruce. I'll be sure to fill in on some of his meetings.” She hasn't told Bruce about William Earle's little conversation starters but Bruce was well aware of Vivian's dislike towards the man.
“By the way, I saw the article on the Gazette,” said William.
“Did you now?”
“I don't really see the problem, I mean come on. Every married man knows this – happy wife, happy life.” He laughed.
Vivian didn't laugh. Is that what they all think of her in Wayne Enterprise?
“Professor Pryor!” Lucius entered the elevator and stood between her and William, to her delight.
“Lucius, wonderful to see you,” Vivian greeted him sincerely.
“Heading to the Wayne Foundation meeting?”
“I am.”
The elevator finally closed and they were heading up. 
“Then I guess we're heading the same way then,” Lucius offered his arm to her.
Vivian laughed lightly and wrapped her arm with the man's. “Good thing you are, I don't think I'll have much patience in these things. I’m all in for doing but planning the whole thing, I just get lost.”
“That's what we're here for, Professor Pryor. You and Mr. Wayne dream it, and we'll do the grunt work on making it happen.”
“I promise to help out as much as I can, Lucius.”
“Your expertise and your presence alone in those events are more than enough. And I believe you've provided the list of collectors who are looking to sell — I never knew you were well acquainted with Rossi.”
“Rossi?” William tried to chime in.
“Sebastian Rossi – he's an Italian artist whose paintings have agreed to put some of his private works to auction. A fixed portion, of course, will go to him, but the rest will be put in the Wayne Foundation.”
“It just so happens Sebastian Rossi is a professor in art history as well, and I went to his lectures when I was still in uni.”
“Did you now?” Lucius said. “Well, Mr. Wayne does have his network in Gotham's elite and powerful, and sciences, but you Professor brings the classics to our doorstep.”
“Somebody has to keep Wayne Enterprise from becoming some robotic corporation.”
They arrived at their floor, and Vivian and Lucius said goodbye to William as they went to Bruce's office.
“Saved your behind from an awkward elevator ride, didn't I Professor?” Lucius teased.
“Yes, and you are my hero today, Lucius,” Vivian sighed. “I'm sure you've seen the article on the Gazette?”
“Everyone has. It's probably one of the reasons why Bruce is a little distracted today at our nine-o'clock. Don't worry, your husband might have his mind preoccupied but he still manages to operate well.”
Vivian sighed. “I am trying to keep an upbeat attitude.”
“I'm sure the charity event will change some perspectives in the coming future.”
“I hope so.”
Entering Bruce's office, they saw the man deep in work while taking a call on his bluetooth earpiece. The moment they opened the door, he told the person at the other line that he'll call them back later then stood to greet Lucius and Vivian.
“Lucius,” Bruce said to the man and then turned to Vivian and kissed her cheek, “Viv, I guess it's time for the meeting.”
“Yes, it is,” Vivian told him.
“But Marge usually takes her time with preparing our coffee. I'll head over to make sure everything is alright. You can come after ten minutes, Mr. Wayne, Professor Pryor,” Lucius said and left the room.
As soon as the door closed, Vivian turned to Bruce and said, “Marge doesn’t take too much time with preparing coffee.”
“No, she does not. But I appreciate Lucius’ efforts in giving us some time alone. It's been a busy week.”
“Both in your day job and night job,” Vivian placed her bag on the seat and leaned back on his desk. Bruce stood before her and removed the tie that's keeping her hair to a bun, then massaged her scalp.
“That feels nice,” she hummed. “How's your day?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“You saw.”
“You should have told me.”
“I just don't want to think more about it. But going through that procession just to get to the elevator didn't help. William Earle didn't help either. Is that what I'm reduced to? A wife you got to please so I'd drop by your office to give you head before a meeting?”
Bruce frowned. “And you said you weren't thinking about it too much,” he leaned down and placed each of his hands on the table to cage her there. “Hey… for better and for worse, remember?” Vivian smiled and pressed her forehead on his. “And your shit is my shit too.” She laughed. 
“Why did we even add that to our vows?”
“It was your idea, and I think it's romantic. But you get the gist.”
“Of course, it was my idea,” Vivian brushed her nose against his and closed her eyes. “I miss the times we sneak around and act like we're good at it.”
“You're not just my wife Vivian, and nor are you just someone I please to get a good fuck. You're my partner in everything. Your achievements are your own and you’ve made a name for yourself in your field, and I am proud of you for it. And you put up with me and the demands of my other life.”
Vivian smiled, she slung her arms around his neck and enjoyed his company. “I should get an award for that. You don't see anyone else who supports their husband and their nightly hobbies of running around in a costume. Let alone a bat costume. And also consulting him and his friends on their Dungeons and Dragons campaigns.”
Bruce chuckled. “I'll get you a plaque for it.”
The door of his office opened and Bruce had to remove himself from his wife, displeased, to face them. It was William Earle. 
“Whoah, didn't mean to walk-in on you both like that,” he joked.
Vivian rolled her eyes, luckily Bruce was big enough to hide her from William's view.
“Will, what brings you here?” Bruce asked.
“Lucius has everyone in the conference room now.”
“But you're not in that meeting.”
He wasn't, but William Earle has always been a suckup.
William shrugged, “Saw them ready for you and thought why not save Marge the hassle of walking all the way here to tell you, you know.”
“Thanks, William,” Vivian got off the table and took her bag. “We'll head there now.”
Taking Bruce's offer of his arm, Vivian and him left the office and went straight to the meeting.
~*~
Veronica Vreeland was one of the few people that Vivian would call a real friend of Bruce Wayne. She remembered meeting the woman after Bruce said his friend demanded they have a double date with her now ex-husband. It was fun getting to know Veronica, and while the two of them were complete opposites, they found some common ground that became the foundation of their friendship. 
Which was dress shopping.
Vivian always loved clothes. She remembered going to the shopping district in Liverpool with her mother and going through the thrift shops to find clothes she liked for a cheap price, then Madeline would fix them up or alter them to fit her preference. For a time she learned how to use a sewing machine just to alter her existing clothes to styles she always wanted, and she did the same for her siblings when they started to become picky with their clothes. 
Oliver was more of the tweed jackets and white shirts and trousers.
Olivia liked rock and roll.
Vivian preferred to sew Olivia's clothes since it was more ripped than actually attached. 
When she got a job, the first paycheck she got, Vivian bought a really nice blazer – not from a thrift shop but a new one that fits her perfectly. It served her for years into her profession until it no longer fits. Later, she started buying clothes that would fit her profession and have that Dan Brown's Robert Langdon aesthetic.
Then she started seeing Bruce Wayne who invited her to galas and fancy dinners, and charity events, and press runways, and she had to look into more appropriate clothes. Luckily, her first gala event as Bruce’s date happened after she met Veronica Vreeland, and the woman invited her to go dress shopping before the event, and got a really nice dress that – in her words – “would have Bruce begging they head home before they even get to the venue.”
Now, here they were again, looking through luxury brand stores for a dress for the upcoming charity auction they were hosting at Wayne Manor. It was a Saturday which meant Tim had time to go through cases in the cave than be a kid, which had Vivian dragging him through their shopping with a video game to play with. 
“You are probably the only kid who I will ever enable to play video games instead of studying,” she told him as she handed him a video game and told him to sit at the bench.
“Or I could just play video games at home,” Tim said.
“Yeah, with Alfred coordinating with the caterer, Bruce at work, and me here, so you're unsupervised and can go to the basement to study? No.”
Tim groaned and took the game. 
Now standing before the mirrors trying out the dress that Veronica picked out, she did a good turn to see how it looked on her. Before she could give her opinion, Veronica told their assistant for the day, “No. She's a world renowned professor in symbology and iconography – in basic terms she's damn smart. Not eye-candy. She's the host for the event, not the hubby's accessory.”
“Of course, we'll find something that might interest us.”
After changing out of the dress and back to the robe that was provided, Vivian laid on the couch beside Veronica and sighed. On cue, the woman handed her a glass of champagne and a slice of cake. 
“Thanks for that,” Vivian said.
“No problem,” Veronica took Vivian's legs and had them on her lap, making the latter laugh. “I hate it when they always choose the dresses my grandmother would wear or whatever Rebecca Fallbrook as in her closet.”
“Which is?”
“The most clothing you'll see on her is probably the Princess Jasmine costume she wore on that New Year's Eve party. And I mean the red Princess Jasmine costume.”
They both laughed at the memory and drank their champagne. 
“I miss shopping with you, Ronie,” Vivian sighed. 
“Well, you've been busy.”
“And you've been on so many honeymoons now that I rarely see you in the country.”
Veronica smirked. “Those honeymoons got you that fantastic fur coat from St. Petersburg and that beautiful coat from Italy, mind you. So, what's up, Vivian Pryor-Wayne? Four years into the marriage… how's living with Gotham's snobs?”
A long and dragging sight. “I miss not being labeled an alcoholic whenever I order beer at ten in the morning. I also miss not seeing my face on the headlines of some tabloid being called as a gold digger.”
Veronica gave her a sympathetic look. “Gotham press and Gotham's socialite are not that welcoming to new money – or those who marry into its circle. They know they can't do anything to you because of Bruce, so they pay the media to do the shaming.”
“I miss Liverpool. There people can call each other wankers and get on with their day. None of this backstabbing shit.”
“Did you stab them when they're looking?”
“Usually.”
Veronica laughed. “If only Gotham is like your little neighborhood in Liverpool… but I hope this doesn't get between you and Bruce though.”
“It doesn't. He has been extra loving lately, and while I enjoy his morning greetings,” Tim mimicked someone vomiting, “I just want this to die down. I mean, I enjoy the gesture but he can't always go on his knees just to cheer me up, right?”
“VIVIAN!” Tim covered his ears with pillows.
“What do you expect? It's Bruce, he likes to please people. But seriously, Viv. Anything you need, I'm here — even if it means trashing someone's car to let out some steam… say Rebecca Fallbrook? Listen, I think this is just going out because you're hosting this event for the Wayne Foundation, and people are not happy that you've been getting good media publicity from the Daily Planet and the press in general. I can smell a rich-man's bribe anywhere.”
Vivian sighed and pulled Tim so she could mess with his hair. It always calms her to do that with her boys. And Tim doesn't mind, it was a free head-massage.
Before Vivian could say anything, the store assistants came back with some outfits that she would like. On in particular caught her eye, and both her and Veronica pointed at it and said, “that one.”
Later that day, a photo went around Gotham Gazette’s page and social platforms with an article that highlights her and Veronica, mentioning that she was once again cashing in Bruce's money with luxury clothes. Vivian slammed her laptop shut and counted the days until the auction. Once that's done all of this would be over… until the next event.
~*~
The grand hall was packed with Gotham's socialite, the press, and guests who show expertise on the pieces that Sebastian has finally opened up to sell. As everyone was socializing downstairs, Vivian watched from the railing as she tried to look for someone she knew so she could run to them immediately and not get caught in all the whole small talk. She saw Veronica there but she was conversing with Suzie Vanaver and Heather Earle, who were not the most welcoming in their little circle. Veronica called them snobs and would rather have champagne at the corner but she was forced by her father to interact with them and be a “good girl” for the evening. And not hunting for husband #4.
“You look like you're playing that crane game we went to with Ms. Vreeland the other day,” Tim said to her as he came out with Bruce. Both wearing matching tuxes that complimented her white jumpsuit. 
“Don't you look handsome,” she told Tim. “I saw Bernard down there, why don't you save him from getting his cheeks pinched by old ladies.”
“You don’t have to bribe a friend so I can give you both some alone time you know,” Tim snickered and left.
Alone, Bruce took Vivian's hand that's been fiddling with Jason's locket and smiled sadly. Even in death, Vivian still finds comfort with Jason's memory. He took her hand and kissed the wedding band and her engagement ring before kissing her lips. 
“You look fantastic,” he told her.
“I’m a complete mess,” she sighed. “It's weird how I know everyone in this room, I can smile and talk to them but I feel utterly alone.”
“But you're not,” Bruce told her. His eyes glanced over her should an the crowd as he said, “and I think you'll be happy to see someone in this crowd right now.” He had her turn around to see.
Waving frantically from below, where he gained looks from the other guests, Sebastian Rossi called out to Vivian with a grin, “Bella! Vivian!” Rossi called for her with his thick Italian accent.
Vivian laughed and waved at him, “Professore Rossi!”
Sebastian Rossi gestured for her to come down. Taking Bruce's hand, they both went to greet the artist who was accompanied by some of her colleagues who were apologizing to the others he surprised with his loud entrance.
“Professore Rossi,” Vivian greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. “How was the flight?” She asked in Italian.
“Professor Vivian Pryor – eh!” Sebastian caught himself, “Professor Vivian Pryor-Wayne, I hear now.”
“Yes,” she then switched to English as she introduced Bruce. “My husband, Bruce Wayne.”
“The lucky man,” Rossi laughed as she shook Bruce's hand.
“Indeed. It's nice to meet you as an artist and as Vivian's good friends. How was the flight?”
“Very appreciated – I think I enjoyed it too much in first class. Now, I heard you have adopted a few boys. I brought presents,” he took out three wrapped boxes from his bag. “I remember reading about it in our emails. The youngest, where is he?”
Bruce called for Tim from the snackbar and had him come over. 
“Ah, you are Tim. Yes?”
“Yeah,” Tim said.
“For you. Vivian said that you liked puzzles, so I got you something to get you off the video games.”
Tim snickered and turned to Vivian. “Look at that, an intellectual game that a normal kid could play that’s not a video game. Thank you, Professor Rossi.”
Rossi patted him on the head – messing up his hair – and had him returning to where he was finishing all the snacks with Bernard. “Now, Richard?”
“Dick's not –”
“Here, I am,” Dick crossed the crowd, all dressed up for the night. “Bruce said it was your event, I can't miss that.”
Vivian smiled and thanked him. “I'm glad you're here, kiddo.”
“Here, my boy. I did the math – mind you I am not a mathematician so I made a good guess on your age. So, here. From Tuscany – Italy's wine region.”
“Thank you… hold on, when you said bad in math, how old did you think I was?”
Rossi shrugged. “Sixteen?”
“He'd be underage. He won't be allowed to drink then,” said Bruce.
Rossi scoffed. “I've been drinking wine since I was Timothy's age.”
“An exaggeration,” Vivian reassured the people around them.
“But thanks,” Dick said. 
“Now. I know that Jason is gone, but he will always be here with you. Here, for you and Mr. Wayne. It is a replica of the Argo — you know, Jason and the Argonauts.”
“Thank you, Professor. This means so much…” she gestured for Alfred to come and the butler approached them and held out his hand to take the gift.
“I'll put this in his old room,” he told her.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Vivian said before he left. “This means so much, Professor –”
“There is more.”
“Please, no more. You have already given so much.”
“No, no! For my favorite student – do not tell the others that –”
“We're right here,” said Kirk. “We were also your students during our semester in Italy.”
“— I made you something for your wedding. I was supposed to give it to you during the celebration but I ran out of time. I can't give it to you now but I had it transported here along with my other works.”
“Please don't tell me Sebastian Rossi just made us a painting as a wedding gift,” whispered Bruce.
“I think he did.”
“And you do know that a Rossi costs about at least six million dollars in the market, right?”
“I know,” Vivian whispered. “And I thought getting him to pour me wine is an honor enough.”
“Here,” Rossi showed the catalog, specifically at the painting. “For your personal collection.”
“Thank you, Professor Rossi,” Vivian said. “This means so much.”
“Specifically around six million dollars,” Dick whispered to Bruce. “Did this add another zero into your joint account?”
“It did,” Bruce answered.
“Now, I shall leave you to your event,” Rossi said.
“No, you are the guest of honor, I would be a rude host to leave you just like that,” Vivian had her arm around her old friend and brought him around to meet Lucius Fox and the others.
The auction went smoothly with Vivian giving an opening speech to discuss more about Rossi's works, and a few words from the artist himself, then everyone was bidding to get a hold on one of Italy's rising artists whose paintings cost just keeps getting bigger and bigger. It ended when Bruce himself purchased a painting called Aphrodite Urania Seducing Ares where the goddess is depicted to be having red hair and is naked as she bathed in sea water, and at the side the god of war was watching with lustful eyes.
“I think we both know why Bruce bought that painting,” Dick said as he removed his hand off of Tim and Bernard's eyes when the photo of the painting was no longer on display.
“You don't say? You think he'll put it in their bedroom?” Tim muttered.
“I know he will.”
With the auction finished, people enjoyed the afterparty and got to know the artist who they just made very rich. As Rossi spoke with Bruce and the others, Vivian was whisked away by Veronica who teased her about the last painting which Bruce bought.
“That wasn't me,” Vivian told her. “Okay, technically that wasn't me, it was a model, but Rossi admitted he made the hair red on purpose because he really liked my red hair.”
Veronica laughed. “Tell me where Bruce is going to put it, alright?”
“Please don't tease him about it.”
“Viv, that's what friends are for. We tease you but with good intentions. It keeps you grounded.”
“Thank you for coming tonight, Ronnie. And for buying that piece,” Vivian sighed. “I don't know how I would have gotten through this night without you.”
“You would have. I barely talked to you, Viv.”
“Well, you kept the hoard from getting me tonight.”
Veronica laughed. “That's what I do… congratulations, Vivian. Now, go and mingle with the other rich people in Gotham. Remember, it's the connections that give you power.”
“I will,” Vivian said and went to the direction of some of the families who bought a piece from tonight. “Mr. Vanaver, Mr. Fallbrook, I'm glad that you're enjoying the evening.”
“Mrs. Wayne, good to see you,” Patrick Vanaver said.
“I hope you're happy with your purchases for tonight.”
“Not as happy as Wayne, though,” Oscar Lawford snickered. “He got the best one there is. Right, Viv?”
Vivian breathed through her nose and reminded herself about the network and the image she needed to keep. “I remember when Professor Rossi was still halfway through painting it – he was having trouble on Aphrodite's hair and then one day he just made it red to make her stand out.”
“Is that right? He just suddenly decided to make the goddess of love and sex have red-hair, huh?” Said Patrick. Vivian frowned. “You know, Professor, we really thought you were one of those quiet type of girls. We never thought you to be well acquainted with big people.”
Vivian forced a smile. “It's part of the job. Traveling, meeting people.”
“You know, I'm a painter myself, not as good as Professor Mario over there, but I can do a decent piece. How about you model for me on a piece” said Patrick.
“Excuse me?” Vivian's brows furrowed. 
“Come on now, Viv. It's just a joke,” said Oscar Lawford.
“You know, I can understand why Bruce wanted that painting. I can see it now.”
Vivian looked at him for a moment then did something that certainly would stick to every Gothamite in this event. She took Patrick Vanaver and Oscar Lawford's drinks and handed them to the nearest server on sight. Before they could question what she was doing, she asked the same man to tell the person at the coats and the valet to get Mr. Vanaver and Mr. Lawford's coats.
“What the hell, Viv?” Oscar told her.
“Don't Viv me. It's either Pryor or Mrs. Pryor-Wayne. While I do appreciate your attendance and we appreciate your donation to the cause, I would humbly ask for you to get out of my house.”
Silence came to the room and everyone was looking Vivian.
“Viv, come on it's a joke!” Oscar scoffed.
“Professor Pryor, the valet are now bringing Mr. Lawford and Mr. Vanaver's vehicles to the front, Ma'am,” Alfred came to her side. “Your coats will be waiting for you at the front,” he told the two men.
“What the – Wayne, are you hearing this right now?” Patrick turned to Bruce who was marching up to their space.
Bruce went to Vivian's side and only looked at the two men, joining him were Dick and Tim who looked at them with menacing glares. “Vivian is the Mistress of Wayne Manor, Patrick. She runs this house. What she says goes. I'm sure the valet already has your cars at the front. And don't worry about Suzie and Heather, they can stay. We'll personally secure their mode of transportation home.”
“Bruce, you can't be serious!” Oscar scoffed.
“Trust me. I am. And Oscar, Patrick,” Bruce towered over them and said in a threatening tone, “Insult my wife again and I swear… it will be the last. Don't think I didn't hear what you said to her along with the anonymous writer you have contacted in the Gazette.”
Vivian smirked. “We thank you for your donation to the Wayne Foundation, gentlemen. And we'll make sure that your paintings will reach your homes securely.”
“Now,” Dick spoke. “Get out.”
The two men turned to their wives and told them to come along, and they did, both embarrassed with what had happened. As soon as they were in their cars, Tim and Bernard ran up to the front with a couple of tomatoes – which Vivian magically conjured discreetly from the kitchen and handed to the boys – and threw it at the two men's windshields. The boys laughed and high-fived as the men started cursing and wiping the tomatoes using their expensive scarves.
“Are you alright, my love?” Bruce asked Vivian.
“Yes,” Vivian sighed. “I am now – a lot better since last week.” Since that article she saw.
“Scotch, neat, Ma'am,” Alfred handed Vivian her favorite drink.
“Thank you, Alfred. I can always count on you for this. And,” she turned to Bruce, smiling, “I can always count on you to have my back.”
“Partners, remember?” Bruce leaned down and kissed her softly.
“Well,” Veronica approached them. “Demure and commanding, I am proud of you, Vivian. The hulking husband is a nice touch, too, Bruce.”
“Ronnie,” Bruce greeted her. 
“What do you think is going to happen after that?” Vivian asked them. 
“Public shaming, give the Vanavers and the Lawfords a couple of days out of the sun – maybe a vacation to their villas – and they'll be back. Scarred and won't dare to come near you, but still close enough to be in the inner circles of Gotham's socialite,” Veronica answered.
“That's nice to hear,” said Vivian.
“Congratulations, Professor Pryor, you now know the ways on how to say ‘fuck you’ like a snobbish Gotham elite,” Veronica clinked her wine glass with Vivian's scotch. 
Tim and Bernard returned, both grinning from ear to ear.
“We got them good,” Tim said.
Vivian knelt down and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, detective.”
“Vivian!” Tim groaned and tried to push her away but couldn't as she had a good hold, making Bernard laugh at him.
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kelin-is-writing · 8 months ago
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kelin may i hear more about rockstar touya \(★ω★)/
I was planning to post other headcanons before going for these, BUT I’ve got some for Rockstar!Touya that are pestering my mind these days and your asks come in the right moment, so bear with me please 🤧
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࣪𖤐… ROCKSTAR!TOUYA
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The first time Touya knew that he wanted to become a rockstar was in middle school, right at the age of thirteen, his influent CEO of a father was trying to mold him into a carbon copy of himself to rival Yagi Toshinori’s Enterprise. While taking a break from studies, he saw his sister watch on TV a rock concert of “Loudness” and to say Akira Takasaki is his role model is the least. That’s a true legend to him.
After “Loudness” and Akira Takasaki, he discovered “Metallica” and Kirk Hammett which made him go like “HOW??? HAVE??? I??? MISSED??? ALL??? THIS???”, scolding himself for taking so long to fall in love with the electric guitar and its sound. The next week he’s blasting full volume “The Final Countdown” by Europe inside the Todoroki Mansion like the good old stamp rock fanatic he is, getting himself scolded and grounded by Enji who is a fan of traditional Japanese music so yeah…
At one of the Todoroki family gatherings during the weekend, he was scrolling down his phone looking first of all where to take guitar lessons and second for a guitar to buy, but he knew his father would never agree to get him one. That’s when his grandfather, peeking at his grandson’s phone, butted in and asked Touya if he’s interested in music. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to answer that question, since he’s the father of his father, but he did and hell has it been the best thing he did!
On his fourteenth birthday, Enji’s father bought Touya his very first electric guitar, a good old Fender Stratocaster CUSTOM MADE for him. It’s snow white like his hair and has a his name engraved on the bottom left side of the guitar, while on the other side there were engraved tiger’s fangs, all in turquoise… The color of his eyes. And this has been by far Touya’s best birthday ever.
After finishing Middle School he choose to attend an Art School, taking the music classes as main classes of course; he may or not have done it to piss off and raise Enji’s blood pressure from how mad he got for choosing something different from Finances and Management. Oh his father was livid and Touya was so proud of himself for that.
He has formed a rock band, of which he’s the guitarist and vocalist, with Tenko Shimura (Bassist&Vocalist) and Shuichi Iguchi (Drummer) called “The Villains”… Are we even surprised about this name? Really? Because I am not. Tenko suggested, Iguchi supported strongly and Touya just went with it because complaining and thinking about another name was “Too much effort”. He likes it a lot but will never admit it.
At the age of nineteen, Touya owns a Fender Stratocaster (Custom Made), an Elite Stratocaster, an ST-83-80 Japan (1983) black, Lone Star Strat, IC350 black, IC50 black, ICHI00 white, Gibson SG Standard mahogany and a Jackson Pro Series DK Modern HT6 MS. He also owns four acoustic guitars for songwriting, like a Martin GPC-X1E, Martin 000-28 Modern Deluxe, Taylor GS Mini-e Rosewood SN LTD and a Taylor AD22e. Did he pay all them with Enji’s credit card? Hell yeah. Did he do it out of spite? Absolutely. Did he care about his father’s blood pressure rising even more? Not even remotely.
His favorite groups are Loudness, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Europe, Scorpions, Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Green Day, Skillet, Linkin Park, The Rasmus, L’Arc-En-Ciel, UVERworld, Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses and Evanescence to list some, because there are many more he adores honestly. He isn’t a picky ear as long as the song gives him chills and inspires him, being someone who’s driven by emotions that’s what makes him likes something he hears.
Atsuhiro is their homeroom teacher, at the Art University they attend, who introduces them to Giran, a friend of his, who has an agency for new talents and after they sent him six of their songs wants to launch their very first album by August to make them debut at the “Rock In Japan Fes.”
Touya, being the emotional driven type of musician, is the one put to write the lyrics for the band’s songs and most of the times are hits, especially because his and Tenko’s voice brings to life the emotions of the lyrics in a way that it reaches the listeners right into the heart and soul.
You will never catch Touya’s fingers empty, there’s always rings decorating them and some rings are even custom made by his cousin Geten, who owns a Jewelry shop that he promotes a lot on his social media. One of his most precious rings is the one that he got made for him, with his birthstone carved in it, when he turned eighteen.
He has three earrings on his right ear: an helix, mid helix, conch and low helix. Four on his left one: two helix, a low helix and one on the lobe, plus three nostril piercings on the right side of his nose.
After “The Villains” debuts and proving his father that he could succeed through music without his help nor his name, Touya owns now a black card that he lets Fuyumi and Shoto use to their heart content.
Last, but not least, be ready to be the muse of Touya’s songs the instant he falls head over heels for you. The moment it happens everything, and I mean everything, to him becomes about you driving Tenko and Iguchi to pure exasperation.
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carolmunson · 2 years ago
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eddie munson x fem!reader | steve harrington x fem!reader
COMING SOON TO THEATERS. A FANFICTION ADAPTION OF ACADEMY AWARD WINNING FILM 'TITANIC' WRITTEN BY:
@loveshotzz @newlips and @carolmunson
ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY + FILM WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. ALL OF THOSE ICONIC SCENES AND LINES ARE, OF COURSE, CREDITED TO WHOM CREDIT IS DUE: JAMES CAMERON
PREVIEW:
Wednesday, April 10th, 1912 Southampton, London
The blare of the fog horn is unmissable, rattling the conversations in a small pub off the White Star Dock. Even through the dusty windows she was clear as day, big as anything anyone had ever seen. Large black body met with a red base, multiple decks, and four large smoke stacks. The ship seemed to go on forever, her beauty unmatched to anyone who had seen it – a behemoth on the seas. A glory – a masterpiece.
The doors of the pub fluttered open and closed all morning as it edged closer and closer to noon. Pints poured by the dozens, the hundreds – half the country coming to the piers to see off the Ship of Dreams and its passengers. The bar was alight with chatter, mixing in with the roar of people from outside — hundreds of people halfway to boarding, waving and kissing goodbye. Beer glasses clinked and people cheered while they watched a long line of high end cars gleam in the spring sun as they rolled down the dock. Precious cargo full of Europe and America’s elite. 
Reporters and bellhops alike flock to them like flies, pub patrons ogling through the dusty windows while they exit their buggies.
Among the commotion, the endless chatter and screeching of pub seats, sat four men oblivious to the spectacle. They’re sitting around a small table with sweat on their brows as the April sun pours golden over them. Eyes burning over their cards as cigarette smoke wafts over their heads — the players lost in the fog during an intense round of poker.
The pot was mostly meager — a few pounds and swaths of change, a pocket watch, a penknife. But in the center was the crown jewel, a prize that would change the winner’s life forever. Two pieces of pressed parchment reading: 
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The men leer over their hands, not a friendly face between them — the tickets were not the dealer’s, but two of the players who had bet the wrong guys. Guys who had been beyond the break and back again, meeting in Morocco, then Paris, and traveling together back to London — guys who had never lost a game of poker. 
Eddie places his bet, pulling a small silver ring off of his right ring finger and tossing it in the center. 
“Are you kidding?” Jeff asks from his left, “That’s everything we have.” 
Eddie grins at him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The sun dances in his big brown eyes like he knows something the rest of them don’t, “When you got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.” 
The two other players speak to each other heatedly in Swedish after one of them hits for a new card. The outburst makes it clear that things aren’t looking good for the Swedes — it makes Eddie’s heart leap. Maybe this is it, maybe he’s finally gonna get back to the states. “Sven?” he asks the man next to him. “Hit,” he replies, putting down a card and taking another. Eddie follows suit, furrowing his brow while his bangs meet his eyelashes. Sweat collects on the nape of his neck where his dark curls are twisted up in a graphite drawing pencil – a trick he picked up from women he met in France. He puffs the smoke from his mouth, eyes meeting the Swede across from him who looks like he couldn’t be having a worse day. 
“Alright,” he says, putting his cigarette down on the ashtray between then, “Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.” 
He leans back in his chair and looks at his friend, sweat beading at the edge of his hairline and glinting off of his deep skin, “Jefferey?” 
Jeff throws his cards down with a roll of his eyes. “Nothing,” Eddie nods. 
“Nothing,” Jeff says curtly through a grit in his teeth. His heart pounds in his chest while he looks at the last of their money on the table – they can’t afford to lose. 
“Olaf?” Eddie asks, the Swede throws down his cards in a huff, “Nothin’.” 
“Sven?” 
Sven puts down his cards and Eddie frowns, “Oh…two pair.” 
His shoulders droop while he looks at his own cards, eyes lingering on the silver ring in the middle of the table, “I’m sorry, Jeff.” 
“What do you mean ‘sorry’?” You idiot! You bet all of our bloody money! You imbecile, you–”
“I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to visit your cousins in Paris again for a long time,” Eddie says with a serious edge. Jeff quirks his brow, triggering Eddie’s winning smile behind plush pink lips. 
“‘Cause we’re goin’ to America!” he exclaims, slamming his cards down on the table, “FULL HOUSE, BOYS!” 
Jeff leaps from his chair in the back of the pub, reaching for the tickets on the on the table, “WE’RE GOIN’ TO BACK TO AMERICA!” 
“I’m goin’ home!” Ed exclaims while the boys hug tightly. The pub cheers for them, pints still flowing — men and women with red cheeks having no idea what they’re cheering for until a fight breaks out between the Swedes. 
Eddie laughs, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder and Jeff does the same — their white shirts dirtied with the stains of the day before.
“I can’t believe it,” Jeff says, teeth shining in a grin across his face, “Goin’ back to America!” 
“Titanic’s going back to America, boys,” the barkeep says, pointing at the clock, “In five minutes!” 
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kavurana · 1 month ago
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SBI Card Elite vs SBI Card SimplySAVE: Key Benefits
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Choosing the right credit card can make a big difference in your financial journey. The SBI Card Elite and SBI Card SimplySAVE are two popular options, each designed to cater to different needs. Here’s a quick comparison of their key benefits:
When comparing SBI Card Elite vs SBI Card SimplySAVE, the Elite card stands out as a premium option perfect for those seeking luxury and exclusive perks. It offers benefits like complimentary movie tickets, access to airport lounges, and reward points on all spends. Additionally, cardholders enjoy discounts on dining, free memberships, and milestone rewards, making it ideal for high-spenders.
On the other hand, the SBI Card SimplySAVE is a great option for everyday spending. It provides higher reward points on essential categories like dining, groceries, and fuel. With a lower annual fee, it’s a budget-friendly card for managing regular expenses while earning rewards.
Both cards have unique features tailored for different lifestyles. If you’re focused on luxury and exclusive experiences, the Elite card is a better choice. For budget-conscious users prioritizing daily savings, SimplySAVE is a smart pick. Choose based on your preferences!
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violetsaffron5 · 1 year ago
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NSFW Gojo Week (4)
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Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists
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Pairing: Gojo x f!Reader
As the executive assistant, it's your job to make sure the company anniversary event goes on without a hitch. Your boss, however, has another idea for your talents.
cw: possessive gojo, power dynamic, boss x employee/ceo x assistant, edging, degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, hate sex (kinda)
words: 2.2k
Masterlist • Day 3 • Day 5
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Sometimes you hate your boss. You really, really do.
He loves to hear the sound of his own voice, loves to tease and poke fun at you any chance he gets. He’s also impatient, rash, has no regard for others and the authority they hold.
And sometimes he’s just plain mean.
But god, if he isn’t fucking sexy.
White hair tousled just right, crystalline eyes that shine bright with frosted lashes. When he smiles, his eyes crinkle slightly in the corner adding to his perfection. An absolute Adonis if you’ve ever seen one.
Sometimes you forget how much you hate him. Especially when he hands you his black credit card telling you to find the perfect dress for your company's upcoming fiftieth-anniversary event.
Everyone in the company attends these events and as the CEO’s personal assistant, your attendance is required. You need to radiate elegance, beauty, and grace to fit in with the elite echelon that will also be present.
It’s important that those with status and power within the company look their best. The men will be in hand-crafted, tailored suits, and the woman in luxury designer gowns.
You know when Gojo tells you to pick something out for the event that he expects you to choose something classy, yet sexy. It’ll show skin, but not too much.
He says it’s because he doesn’t appreciate the way other men leer at you. Part of you has always wondered if it’s something else.
When it comes to Satoru Gojo, there are two things you’re sure of:
First, he doesn’t have a partner. Being one of Tokyo's most eligible bachelors, a playboy like him doesn’t seem to be interested in settling down.
Second, you don’t miss the looks he gives you every day in the office.
You notice the way he watches you at your desk, just outside his office, from time to time, chewing on your pen as you listen intently to whoever is on the other line trying to schedule a meeting with him. You’ve also noticed the way he focuses on your lips as you talk, sitting across his desk squeezing your thighs together, squirming under his intense gaze. And you can feel the hole he’s burning into your ass when you walk away, hips swaying back to your own space.
On the night of the anniversary event you wear a black, floor-length dress with two slits up to your thighs, pinches at your waist perfectly, and shows off your bust. You haven’t seen Gojo yet, but you’re sure he’ll appear at any moment.
All of the board members, higher-ups, and competitors are here tonight to celebrate the company's accomplishments throughout the years. In the little circle you stand in talking with several of them, you recognize one in particular who has come to see Gojo several times over the years.
Naoya Zenin, with his bleach-blonde hair and designer tux, hands you a drink with a Cheshire grin while looking you up and down, “You know, you look great for your age. You should wear things that accentuate your womanly features more often.”
You tilt your head to the side and blink several times at his backhanded compliment before gaining your composure and accepting his drink. You would love nothing more than to give him a taste of his own medicine right now, but anything you say or do would reflect poorly on the business, and now isn’t the time for that.
Before Naoya has a chance to insult you again, a large hand snakes around your waist, pulling you into him.
“What’s going on here?” Gojo’s tone is icy, accusatory, but for what, you’re not sure.
“Oh nothing much,” Naoya says eyes flickering between the two of you, “Just chatting with your personal assistant.”
You glare at him while Gojo grabs the drink Naoya gave you from your hand, sniffing it quickly before handing it back to his competitor.
“Those of us presenting awards tonight aren’t allowed to drink until after the ceremony. There’s still plenty of work that needs to be done before we can relax.”
Gojo swiftly presses the drink back into Naoya’s hand causing it to spill all over his suit, causing the man to roll his eyes and grumble before walking away.
Turning to Gojo, you smile meekly while adjusting his tie. As expected, he looks better than ever in his fitted black suit, “Thanks for getting me out of that situation. That guy’s an asshole.”
He’s watching you with an expression you can’t read, but he does nod slowly in acknowledgment, “I need your help getting some last-minute changes organized before the announcements and awards are presented.”
Things like this aren’t uncommon, having to change the presentation or make other small things so everything runs smoothly at these events, so you studiously walk with Gojo to the elevator, making your way to his office on the top floor.
He keeps his arm locked around your waist in the elevator, and all it takes is one look. One simple look of you looking up to meet his azure gaze, eyes staring at your lips before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.
It doesn’t take long until you’re laying on your boss's desk, legs spread wide, cunt on full display as curls two fingers, hitting your sweet spot.
“G-Gojo, please,” You’re begging for the release he’s denied you of several times already, before feeling a hard smack to your ass, causing you to yelp and arch your back from the sting.
“I’ve already told you. When we fuck, call me Satoru.”
Tears are forming in the corner of your eyes, hips thrusting up to meet his hand, searching for anything to press against your aching clit as you whine, “Sa-Satoru, please, please!”
The top of your dress has been pulled down, breasts exposed, and bouncing with every thrust. The hem has been lifted over your hips, bunched up at your waist. But aside from his tie having been loosened and a few of the top buttons undone, he’s still totally clothed.
“Please what, baby?” He cocks his head to the side, a saccharine grin plastered on his face.
Your brain is mush at this point, but you don’t care. Rutting your hips up, he chuckles, letting his thumb slowly graze over your clit, just long enough to tease before moving it away.
“I need - fuck - I need to cum, please.”
He quirks an eyebrow before cooing, “You need to cum?”
A soft whine leaves your lips as you shake your head yes.
Satoru snickers rubbing his thumb over your neglected clit in small tight circles, “See, I don’t really think you do. You need water for hydration, air to breathe. But you don’t need to cum.”
Your legs tremble and twitch, the thread that’s formed in your belly threatening to snap at any moment. And he knows, which is why he removes his thumb from your clit at the last possible second.
Tears well in the corner of your eye as you gasp out several obscenities at the loss of stimulation, unsure of what you even said when your back arches off the desk.
“It would have been better to say you deserve to cum. But even then, that begs the question.”
You look at him with furrowed brows and decide you really do fucking hate him. You knew you did, but you’re always blinded when he’s nice and generous to you.
Even though he had the face of an angel, he’s actually the devil and you should have known as soon as he kissed you, this is how your time together was going to go.
“Do you deserve to cum?” He asks seriously, pumping his fingers in and out of your core.
“Y-yes.”
His eyes widen as he laughs - laughs - at your answer.
“Really? Do you really think so? With the way you smile at Nanami and Suguru, and laugh at their jokes in the break room? That I wouldn’t see you were giving that pathetic, fucking Zenin bastard ‘fuck me’ eyes when he handed you that cocktail?”
You huff at his words, sucking in a sharp breath between your teeth, “Is your ego really so fragile you think I’d flirt with any of them over you?”
He increases his pace at your remark, rubbing his long fingers along the spot on the inside that has you seeing stars, legs trembling once again from having been denied your release only seconds or minutes prior, you’re not sure.
“Ask nicely.”
“What?”
He glares at you, “Ask nicely and I’ll think about letting you cum.”
“Please, please, please, I’ll do anything!” You whine, so pathetic, so pretty with the thought of your release being within reach, “Please fuck me, please let me cum.”
“Fine. You’re so fuckin’ needy.” He breathes, withdrawing his hand from your core, you whimper at the loss of being filled as he works to undo his belt, the prongs clinking against the buckle as his slacks fall to the floor.
You sit up on your elbows, watching his cock spring free as soon as he releases it from the confine of his briefs. You snake your lip between your teeth at the sight, looking up to meet his cocky grin as he pumps himself a few times.
Of course, he has a dick just as pretty as his face, huge, and the tip perfectly pink.
Satoru hovers over you, the blunt tip of his cock slipping past your entrance as you inhale sharply from being stretched. He goes slower than you expect, savoring every moment of entering you for the first time. His large hands grip your waist so tight there’s sure to be bruises later, in an effort to stop himself from bottoming out immediately.
“Baby, you’re so wet,” He mutters, slowly moving his hips, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled by him. So different from his attitude just moments before when he was hellbent on edging you within an inch of your life.
He rocks his hips, gently, shallowly a few times before sliding all the way out and slamming back in; moaning, throwing his head back as lewd squelching echoes in the room.
“Look at you,” Satoru coos, “Such a cockslut. Letting her boss fuck her brains out.” You clench around him automatically at his words, and he hisses, leaning over you. “Ha - you like that?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” You moan out as he increases his pace, watching as your tits bounce in time with his thrusts.
Grabbing your legs, he throws them over his shoulder, leaning down and crashing his lips with yours, literally folding you in half. You cry out in pleasure at just how deep he’s able to go, allowing him to slip his tongue past your lips.
Just like you’ve always imagined, his lips are soft and full against yours; his kisses are needy and hurried, like if he doesn’t do this now, he may never get the chance again.
“Don’t cum.” He demands as you clench around him, heat in your core building and building once again.
Your eyes widen at his request, nails digging into the nape of his neck and tugging his hair, “What? Why?”
His long arms reach across the desk, hands gripping the mahogany so hard on the other side his knuckles are white, snapping his hips into yours as he fucks you faster, harder, and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you whine and moan against him trying your hardest to hold back your impending orgasm.
Removing your legs from his shoulders, he easily lifts you from the desk, kissing feverishly as he walks you over to the full-length windows in his office.
You gasp, as your back hits the cool window, your back and ass on full display for all of Tokyo - of course, they won't be able to actually see it, considering you’re on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city.
“You’re coming with me on all my business trips from now on,” He sighs as you kiss along his neck jaw, nipping at his earlobe while he pistons his hips into yours, “Been wanting to do this for so long.”
He’s fucking you within an inch of your life, and unable to hold back any further, shattering around him as your mouth falls slack, vision going white from the intensity.
“Shhh, baby,” He coos, “We gotta get back s-soon.”
His hips falter and stutter against yours, feeling just how hard you’re gripping around him, sloppily kissing into you as he lets out a low groan, finding his own release not long after you.
You’re still against the window, panting as he continues fucking you through his release, coming down from your high. Both of your fluids dripping obscenely onto the floor below.
As you work on catching your breath, Satoru helps you stand on shaky legs, lazily kissing your lips as you hold onto his arms and shoulder for support. Leaning against the window, you wipe his sweat-covered bangs off his forehead before removing the lipstick stains littering his jaw and neck with your thumb.
Just as the two of you finish adjusting your clothes, someone rasps on his office before opening it.
Satoru is quick to cage you in against the window, hiding your face from whoever just entered.
Nanami, judging by the sound of his voice, “Gojo. The awards are about to start.” “Uh, yeah. We’ll - I’ll be down in a minute.”
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mako-neexu · 5 months ago
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wait i knew elite credit cards would be involved considering that theres so much wealth overflowing... but i didnt think it would be gold card... just a gold card though?? with a limit?? just within the mall??? ah this BB isnt really BB... and when i was scrolling through the TL someone just said that its definitely not BB because BB would make the card unlimited and then only charge you in the end because BB wouldnt do something so half hearted www
moreover!!! what is this!!! just a gold card for guda???? dantes bring out your black card for guda smh (this guy would 100% give guda his black card without hesitation and tell them not to worry about the credit limit...truly the ultimate boyfriend)
Dantes: BB Gold Card? Hmph. Pointless. Use my 'Black Card of Love and Hate' instead, Ritsuka. This can buy out an entire store in Dubai. No need to mind the credit limit. Buy whatever you want to your heart's content.
Guda: wh
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ornii · 9 months ago
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You’re Overthinking, Kate
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Clint Needs to get Kate a good teacher, Luckily he knows a guy.. You.
Christmas was rousing around, closing in more and more during the winter. While this was a time of celebration for many, for two in particular they weren’t so lucky. Kate Bishop has put herself in a pickle and Clint, being her hero and a stand up guy, threw his arrow into the quiver to help her. The Tracksuit Mafia wasn’t one to let vendetta’s go, and unfortunately, Kate made the list. With her life on the line, Clint made a decision to help her by making a bold decision.
Standing in an Elevator the two silently stood there as it ascended.
“So… this guy..” Kate started, slowly trailing on not really able to form a coherent idea.
“Is he an Avenger?” She said with a gleam to potentially meet another, Clint coldly shook his head. “No, Shield Agent.”
“That’s.. cool too.” She said, a bit disappointed but still somewhat excited. The elevator halts with a swoosh and the door opens after a song ding. They step out to a wood tile floor and exquisite hallways. Clint heads left as Kate looks around at everything. “This is, awesome! They even have those little dove soaps!”
“Hey, focus, please?” Clint says, getting her attention. “Your life literally depends on it..” he mutters. They head to the hall and specifically to door number 195. Clint calmly knocks on the door.
“So, what’s the agent like? Is she like a Spy or a Double agent?”
“No, well something like that..”
“Something?”
“Former Shield Agent, now hired Mercenary.”
“You took me to a hired assassin?!” Kate yells and Clint glares at her to lower her voice. “Mercenary, it’s different.. plus he’s like you.”
“An archer?”
“Annoying.”
The door casually opens to a man in his twenties, dressed in causal wear. His eyes undress Kate up and down and he smiles.
“What can I… do for you?” He asks, his eyes look over and sees Clint, his demeanor changes and he sighs. “Oh, hey Clint.”
“(Y/n), we need your help.”
“Therapists are on the 14th Floor.” (Y/n) replies and prepares to close the door, Clint puts his foot in to keep it from closing.
“I’m serious..”
“So am I.. I doubt Shield wants you talking to me, plus I don’t want to put the girl in any trouble. So will you please take your foot and—“
“We need the Taskmaster.” Clint huffs, (Y/n) halted in his steps and slowly opens the door. He didn’t say much to Clint and simply let them in. Clint follows him and he motions for Kate to follow. They enter a modest studio apartment. One part seemed normal, bedding, Kitchen, small living room, the other half had what seemed to be a training ground, flat surfaces, mats, weights, weapons, all wood. (Y/n) stopped in the middle of the training Ground and turned around to face them.
“So, what do you want?” He said pretty bluntly.
“Tracksuit Mafia. What do you know?” Clint asks first.
“Them? Small town Gang running in New York, went big after the snap. last time I checked Ronin put the sword to them. Why ask?” (Y/n) said.
“They’re the issue.”
“Ah, okay.. but what does she have to do with this?” (Y/n) asked, his eyes turned to Kate, she didn’t really know what to say, until she just blurts something out.
“Is that a Keurig?” She points to his kitchen. Specifically at his Keurig coffee maker. Pristine condition, a Keurig K elite Maker.
“Uh, yeah? has Hazenut, Dark roast, French Vanil—“ (Y/n) trails off and stops talking. “Are you about to ask for some? Absolutely not I’ve known you for 2 minutes.” He said, and Kate puts on a puppy dog eyes bit. “Please?” She asks, Clint watches (Y/n)’s face contort, he was always known to be a stone cold merc. But now his face looks. Conflicted.
Kate sits sipping her coffee, relishing the rich flavor. (Y/n) was staring at her, arms folded.
“Okay so let me get this straight, you’re the one who broke Stane tower shooting an arrow at it?” (Y/n) reiterated the information he’s been told, “Which is why my credit cards are Maxed out.” Kate adds in.
“I didn’t ask— whatever. Point is the Track suits think you’re ronin. Why? You don’t look that threatening.” (Y/n) was confident in his analysis. Kate her coffee down, “I can show you.” She replies, (Y/n) eyes Clint, who waved them off as if to say “Go for it.”
The trio stand on the roof of the Apartment and (Y/n), Kate and Clint were standing in the pure snow, five targets stood across them and he motioned Kate to go first.
“Watch and be amazed.” Kate let five arrows loose and hit bullseyes on each one, Clint gives (Y/n) a look, and he nods in approval. Kate turns to (Y/n).
“Pretty good, not gonna lie. My turn i suppose.” He says and she hands him the arrow and he takes a deep breath.
“So, when did you learn how to shoot?” She asks.
“Just now.” He responds, Kate was obviously confused by the reply. “What did you just—“ (Y/n) with Zero hesitation let loose 5 arrows as well, each one splitting hers as they also hit perfectly dead on. Kate was obviously confused by this.
“How did you just—“
“Photographic Reflexes.” Clint says, “Kid can duplicate any physical move he sees moments later, even copy fighting styles. Basically.” Clint says and (Y/n) finishes for him
“Anything you can do, I can do better~” he says in a sing song voice, mockingly.
“Your archery skills are impressive, I might keep them.” He said. “You’ve got potential though.” He adds in, turning to Clint.
“So, this is why you came to me, to train her.”
“You’re someone I trust…” Clint admits, and (Y/n) turns to Kate.
“Alright, one last test, hand to hand combat.”
Back in the Apartment, Clint stood in the middle of them as (Y/n) didn’t seem particularly worried about fighting her, Kate on the other hand was pretty worried that she’ll get her butt kicked, and she was pretty right.
“Alright.” Clint steps back and (Y/n) looked so aloof and relaxed. Kate moves in with a few martial arts, swift jabs and strong kicks, (Y/n) was playing mostly Defence, dodging or blocking her hits. Simply gathering information until his body calculates hers. He gets all the information he needs, he counters by slamming his foot down, ducking a punch and using her momentum to toss her across the room as she goes sliding across the room, getting up frustrated she moves back in, (Y/n) this time implements the Black Widow style, acrobatic dodges and well placed strikes to the body to weaken her. And with another judo throw she winds up on the ground.
“Fighting someone who keeps changing seems impossible, I know. But you’ll be fine”
(Y/n) says, but Kate was dead silent.
“Uh, you okay?” He asks, she nods.
“You sure? You look, pale.”
“Nah. I’m good.” She replies, he helps her up as Kate tries to play off how much pain she’s in.
“I just need to sit down for a sec that’s all.” Kate tries to walk to the couch like she’s fine but the small limp says a lot. (Y/n) turned to Clint.
“She’s definitely better than most… a little green but who isn’t at her age.”
“You’re only three years older.” Clint flatly points out.
“Hey.. I’m trying to look cool here.” (Y/n) says. “I’ll teach her what I know, after that we’re square, okay?”
“Promise.”
Day 2
Kate this time came on her Own, no Clint around, this time the two can spar without any trouble. (Y/n) kept his eyes locked on her, he didn’t have much trouble doing that. Kate went in with a flurry of stuff kicks, a few land on the body but (Y/n) blocks most and retaliates with a heavy strike to the body, the impact almost sent her flying back. (Y/n) was moreso the aggressor this time, trying to go for an overhead strike, Kate rolls out of the way and back up, each deflecting an attack.
“I know it’s hard! Trying to fight someone who knows your every move!” (Y/n) says mid battle, trying to help her. “Try something else, you gotta have something else.” He said, with a palm strike Kate was stunned, (Y/n) prepares for another judo throw, but as he tosses her, she locks her leg with his, halting his throw, she breaks her arm free and wraps around his waist for a stunningly beautiful German Suplex. (Y/n) hit the ground hard, Kate sits up breathing hard, but proud of her win.
“Did you see that? I—“ Kate turned to (Y/n) who slowly stood up, wobbly.
“Shit are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?” She grabs his wrist. Keeping him from wobbling, (Y/n) looks at her, his daze and confused expression slowly faded as he looked at the worry in her eyes. Kate sighs with relief.
“I’m good, that just caught me off guard, you’re getting better Bishop.” He said, she smiles, proud of herself. It was silence in the room, until Kate realized they’re holding hands, she pulls them back embarrassed.
“I am so sorry!”
“Nah it’s cool, it’s cool.” (Y/n) says, “So.. uh, good workout.. maybe you wanna.. go get a smoothie?” (Y/n) asked, Kate tilts her head a bit.
“Like.. a date smoothie?” Kate ask, almost sounding hopeful.
“N-no like a, post-workout-after-getting-a-German-suplex smoothie.”
“They make those?” She asks.
“They would if I asked, I mean I’m paying for it, you got your cards taken.”
“You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
“Yeah but, I like to.” He replies. And this got an honest laugh out of Kate, seeing her smile did something to (Y/n). He couldn’t put his finger on it but.. he wanted to see it so much more.
(Hey, so like.. I’ve never watched a single episode of Hawkeye, I just did this from general information and memory so i apologize for the lack of consistency to the MCU but let’s say the Black Widow Taskmaster was Task Manager. Besides that I hope I did justice and more Nat and Wanda coming. I promise I’m working on shit.)
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somefanficrecomendations · 1 year ago
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December Monthly Roundup
Here's December's fic round up!
DC/BATMAN
Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam   (gen)7k, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd-Centric Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.
Batstream by RandomReader13 (gen), 6k, Bats on social media, Humor   “I want it on record that I think this is a terrible idea and I’m only doing this to mitigate the damage." AKA Red Robin decides it's a great idea to livestream patrol while Batman's off-world. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
cards on the table by wesslan (gen) 67k, WIP, Fortune Teller AU, Tim Drake-Centric  Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.  His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.  or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..
(a not so) lonesome town by wesslan   (gen), 10k, 2-part series, Sentient Gotham, Jazz music. Two works in which Gotham City is sentient and adopts enough kids to rival Batman himself (Batman is one of them).
Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee) (gen), 43k, Meta Tim, Resurrection Powers   Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.  When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.  But most of all, Tim is alone.  (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)
HUNGER GAMES
right here in the old therebefore by californianNostalgia (Katniss/Peeta) 14k, Canon Divergence, Ghosts There’s a ghost at the Hanging Tree. Katniss sees him first when she’s six, her hair in braids, the song about the growing gallows fresh in her mind. This changes nothing. This changes some things. (In which Lucy Gray killed Coriolanus at the lake.)
How Rue Became the Mockingjay by aimmyarrowshigh (multi) 5k, Different 74th Victors AU Katniss Everdeen and the girl from Eleven are ruining their best-laid plans – the Capitol’s and the Rebels’. So Caesar, they say. Announce the change. An alternate chronology for The Hunger Games.
CROSSOVERS
Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145 (Annabeth/Percy), 76k, PJO x DCU, Annabeth gets Lex Luthor arrested, BAMF Annabeth. Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit. Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries. Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.
A Lesson in Superiority by Nation-Ustria (gen), 96k, WIP, Batfam x Harry Potter, Damian Wayne is Harry Potter, Wizarding Politics “The good news is, he’s not cursed,” Constantine says. “And the bad news?” Dick asks sharply. Constantine squints. “I wouldn’t call it bad news so much as, er, news.” He turns to Damian with something like a grimace. “You’re a wizard, kid.” “...I’m a what?”
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godesssivyy · 7 months ago
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The elite spoiled brat that’s written all over your credit card statements 🎀🖤
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