dceu_kinkmeme | DCEU Prompt Post #1

It's quite mesmerizing, isn't it? I ended up watching a whole youtube channel full of aikido instruction even though I won't use 99% of it, haha.

Bruce is cranky and needs a nap :(

(I think I need to revisit that last scene, it's kinda off the mark. Maybe I'll dump a revision in the writing post for posterity, idk!)

he did raise and train two Robins, after all, he knows what he's doing.

Exactly! He's done this before, he knows the drill. UH OH BAGGAGE.

<3 <3 I'm glad you're still enjoying things, OP!

Heart eyes, motherfucker!
IT'S ON

Thank you so much, anon <3<3

How awful, indeed. And my Pavlovian response to seeing this updated isn't absolute giddiness and the most ridiculous smile that may or may not hurt my cheeks. ;-D

"One of them waved first," Clark tries to explain.

Bruce gives him a flat stare. "As I said..."

I love how Clark thinks that should explain away Bruce's irritation with him. And I love how Bruce is saying how he doesn't date 'nice' people like Clark without actually saying it.

I can't wait for more! I mean, clearly, I will, but I look forward to more!

Thanks for sharing!

Also, Alfred!

He would frame the thank you notes, wouldn't he?

I imagine it's astonishing for Alfred to receive anything like a courtesy from Bruce's usual fair, but clearly Martha raised Clark right as he's sending notes even though he should be aware that it's all a part of an act.

And it's adorable how Clark is treading on eggshells around Bruce because of his prickly demeanor when, really, he shouldn't have to since, well, Bruce did kind of...try to kill him and all...

I know you probably wanted this in a kinky way but?? I'm thinking of filling it but was intending more of a non-sexual way with Clark getting overwhelmed by sensations outside of the supersuit? Maybe Bruce having to ground him? (Could end in porn??) Anyway,if you're not up for that OP that's fine!!

I'm not OP, but I'd definitely be interested in reading something like that (especially if Bruce grounds him with sex ;D).

Yessssssssss, oh, where even to begin - thank you so much for that teeny hint of praise kink! And then Bruce being all relentless, Clark dealing with soreness and exhaustion for the first time, and that moment with the bodywash is just, YES. YES THANK YOU. And poor tired cranky Bruce, coming home to a sleepy comfortable clean Clark he has no excuse to touch. :( Love love love the "deep weariness" catching Clark's attention. ~~GO BACK AND GIVE HIM A HUG, CLARK~~

Awesome, anon, this is so great and there is no help for you here. I said it before and I'll say it again: FIVE HUNDRED MORE PARTS, PLEASE.

I meant to get a little further with this today and get into some other terrible things that happen to Clark, but my bedtime has snuck up on me :( But there will be more tomorrow!

---------

The few times he’s been admitted into the Batcave, Clark had assumed that Bruce’s vast array of technology was simply another manifestation of his extraordinary paranoia. The stacked screens, the feed that transmit directly from Gotham’s impressive security apparatus, the police scanner, the air traffic control scanner, Bruce’s own set of cameras set up in various buildings where Wayne Enterprises has security and IT systems contracts… all of it ends up in the Batcave, where Bruce – or probably more often, Alfred – monitor, filter, assess. Relentlessly.

What Clark now realises is that all these monitors, all that equipment isn’t really in the service of Bruce’s paranoia – well, not entirely, anyway. Clark now realises that if you’re going to cast your shadow over the whole of the Gotham underworld, it’s actually more of a necessity.

Clark glances down at the streets of Metropolis, a sickeningly long distance below him.

He supposes if he had equipment like Bruce’s he might’ve caught up somewhat faster on all the things that’d happened while he was… well, while he was effectively dead (and it still feels weird to think of it that way – that there were funerals, that people mourned him. That months upon months had passed while he’d been lying under clods of earth, until one day he’d simply woken up, and scared his mother half to death by wandering into the kitchen covered in dirt. He’s lucky the shotgun wasn’t in grabbing distance, or he’d be going through the whole thing all over again).

But given how shaky his powers were in those first few days, and given that Ma had never seen the big deal about ‘that thing, the internet’, he’d had to stick to print.

Some things, he knows. He knows about the fledging steps the League have taken into the world. He knows about the state funeral, and about Lex Luthor’s madness and imprisonment. He knows Bruce has been funding a hefty whack of the reconstruction efforts.

Unfortunately, he failed to catch up on a lot of other things.

Honestly though, he’s not sure it would’ve helped in this instance.

There’s not a lot a man can do when a 500-pound, hyper-intelligent gorilla who has just busted his way out of Iron Heights Penitentiary snatches you up and drags you to the top of a building – which has, ironically, only just been rebuilt, courtesy of one Bruce Wayne.

Not when he doesn’t have his powers, anyway.

Considering he’d been very much Clark Kent when Grodd first snatched him up, Clark’s intention had been to wait until they were at some suitable height, then slip out of the gorilla’s fingers and discretely divest himself of his shirt and tie, before flying back to capture him.

Of course, that plan had gone hurtling out of the window the second he’d felt the squeeze of Grodd’s fingers around his ribcage, the way they constrict the air flow to his lungs, and the nauseating way his feet had been swept out from under him as Grodd hurtled up the side of the construction site.

They were going a bit slower now as they reached the as yet unreconstructed spire. Grodd was groping for handholds. Somewhere in the distance, Clark thought he could hear a helicopter.

“Look,” he says, keeping his tone reasonable. Grodd’s an intelligent being, after all, which means he can be reasoned with. “I’m a reporter. I can help you get your message out. But I can’t if I’m –”

“If you’re spattered in every direction across the sidewalk, like so much spaghetti sauce?” Grodd finishes for him. “I know you’re a reporter, you cretin. That’s why I chose you as a hostage. Do you think I’m so stupid as to simply snatch the first person I saw on the street? No – if I’m going back to that hideous place, then I’m making sure The Daily Planet remembers me for it.”

Oh, Clark thinks. Well then.

The helicopters are getting closer. The wind – not something he’s ever had to worry about before – is biting into his skin the higher they climb. He’s shivering. That’s never happened to him before either. Clark looks down at his bare arm in curiosity, watching as his skin rises into goosebumps.

Huh.

Clark has lived amongst humans all his life, and yet, he still feels he’s learning even the first things about them sometimes.

The helicopter that has been tracking them swoops around in a close pass, and Clark doesn’t need any kind of super vision to see the grey sunlight glinting off the rifle scope as it angles in their direction. The small red dot of the laser sight traces its way up over Grodd’s dark fur.

“Fools,” Grodd mutters. “They won’t shoot me while I’m holding you – just another one of your sentimental human folli –”

Clark doesn’t hear the shot when it’s fired – but given it’s a tranquilizer dart that lodges itself in Grodd’s shoulder and not a bullet, he supposes he wouldn’t.

For a moment, they both look down at it in surprise. Then their eyes meet. “Sonofa –” Grodd says, and then Clark feels his stomach drop, the sky reeling down and the ground up as Grodd’s fingers lose their hold on the girder he’d been clinging to.

And then he’s dropping like a stone, the force of gravity grabbing at him in a way he hasn’t felt since he was first learning to fly, becoming a graceless, flailing bundle of limbs plummeting towards the earth.

Clark isn’t really sure what to feel – on the one hand, he trusts that the tactical response team would not have tranquilized Grodd if they didn’t have a plan.

On the other, the ground is rushing up at him, very fast and very large, and if there is a plan, Clark would really appreciate it if they enacted it round about n –

“Unf.”

Clark feels his head snap back on his neck, all his joints simultaneously yanked out of his sockets as something smacks into him. For a moment, he can’t quite get a hold of what’s happened; but then, he realises he’s swinging through the air, a strong arm around his waist, rough armour against his cheek.

Bruce.

Or Batman, rather. Swinging between buildings on the end of the Batline. His timing really is exquisite, Clark has to admit. And as plans go, he can’t fault it – he’s off the top of the building, after all.

Now if only his head would stop feeling like… well, like someone dropped a nuclear bomb in it. Considering he knows what that feels like, Clark thinks he’s qualified to comment.

Batman swoops down into a section of crumbled buildings that no one’s yet started to clear away, letting Clark drop to the ground. His knees give way beneath him, and he has to break his fall with his hands. He can feel – really feel – the tiny shards of concrete as they embed themselves in his skin, and when he looks down, there’s blood oozing out of a graze across his palm.

“What were you doing up there?” Bruce’s voice is distorted by the Batsuit – the first time Clark has heard it since he lost his powers.

He glances up, confused, before it comes to him that before, whenever he’d heard Batman’s voice coming from within the suit, he’d been using his hearing to filter out the distortion – to still hear Bruce behind all the electronic fizz. It’s strange to hear it now. Like he’s talking to someone else. Like it’s yet another layer that has descended between them, after all the time they’ve spent cautiously pulling them down.

“I wasn’t exactly up there by choice,” Clark says, getting shakily to his feet. He still feels like his body is still pulling itself together. His neck is killing him. “Grodd just grabbed me. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.”

Bruce is silent a while, his eyes white in the blackness of the cowl. “Why you?”

Clark shrugs. “Beats me. He said he wanted The Planet to truly have something to write about him this time – something to remember him by. He knew he was going back to Iron Heights.” Clark glances over his shoulder, not sure if he wants to know. “Speaking of Grodd…”

“He’s fine.” Bruce’s tone is curt. “The emergency response team is more experienced in animal capture since the last time Grodd got out.”

Clark opens his mouth to ask, but then decides he probably doesn’t even want to know.

“Well… thank you for saving me,” he says eventually. His Ma raised him with good manners. You thank people who save your life, even if they seem, inexplicably, to be blaming you for your predicament.

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce says after another long pause. “Stay out of trouble. You were lucky this time. Next time I might not be around to save you.”

Clark isn’t sure what to say to that – saying something like, Well, I’m sure you will, seems to imply that he’ll both need rescuing again, and he’s come to expect that Bruce will be on call to do it.

Bruce shoots his Batline up into the cratered vault of the ruined building before zipping away once more, and Clark can’t help but watch as he goes, a quiet confidence building in his chest.

Anon, this is great! Thanks for writing things for us before bedtime. <3 I feel so sorry for depowered, helpless Clark, poor guy. Of course he ends up in trouble, even if it's just for being a reporter. And I love how fascinated Clark is by being a normal human being for once. Bruce saving him like the damsel he is right now is of course amazing, and this line made me laugh a lot:
Now if only his head would stop feeling like… well, like someone dropped a nuclear bomb in it. Considering he knows what that feels like, Clark thinks he’s qualified to comment.

He glances up, confused, before it comes to him that before, whenever he’d heard Batman’s voice coming from within the suit, he’d been using his hearing to filter out the distortion – to still hear Bruce behind all the electronic fizz. It’s strange to hear it now. Like he’s talking to someone else. Like it’s yet another layer that has descended between them, after all the time they’ve spent cautiously pulling them down.
And oh, this is so great and it makes so much sense, I love this idea. And I love how sure Clark is that Bruce would totally save him again. :D Thanks for writing and sharing this, anon!

Thank you for sharing before sleep claimed you!

Ahhh, I love when Clark gets singled out for being a reporter. It's one of my favorite little narrative thrills.

And I just love his fascination with all the little things he's never experienced before like how cold it is or the feel of the gravel on his palms.

Oohhh Bruce, acting like Clark was waving a "please take me hostage" flag. And haaaa, you'll be around to save him so much more. I can't wait! Thank you once again!

WAIT THAT'S YOU TOO

WHAT IS THIS SORCERY

*braintwin high-five*

:D I KNEW YOU'D BE UPSET.

More seriously, though, so so delighted you're still enjoying this so thoroughly, OP, because it is getting REALLY long and running away with me REALLY hard and there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it. /o\ OH WELL And this was going to be the one BvS fic on my list that DIDN'T have any identity porn in it, too. :D Shows how good I am at planning ...

Oblivious Clark? Aspects of Bruce that are neither Batman nor Bruce Wayne that Clark starts to notice? Clark getting embarrassed yet again? DOESN'T SOUND LIKE SOMETHING I WOULD WRITE. :D

I'm as impatient and excited for that kiss as Clark is

:D Well, you should only have to wait one more part, if all goes according to plan! (And I'll try not to miss a day again, oops.)

of course logic dictates that he's madly in love with Clark

YOU KNOW IT. There is definitely no other reason why Bruce is doing nice things and going out of his way here! NOPE. :D

Oh, OP - thank you so much for the prompt (for ALL THE PROMPTS, apparently) and for your ridiculously kind comments and all your amazing enthusiasm. I am so, so glad you're liking this so much, and so happy to be sharing this lovely little fandom with you. ♥

/o\ Aw, thank you so much, anon - you're far too kind, and I'm so glad you're looking forward to new parts instead of sick of being spammed. :D

Haha, glad you enjoyed it! I do so love contrasting Bruce's persona with Clark's ... Clarkness. :D Especially when I get to have Bruce give Clark a compliment in as uncomplimentary a way as possible, and have Clark totally miss it. Oh, Clark.

:D I thought maybe that was too much information for such a brief line of dialogue, but the mental image of Clark dutifully writing thank-you notes for every single thing - and Bruce receiving them - was so amazing I couldn't bear to cut it. /o\ I LOVE thinking about how pleased Alfred would be that Bruce was finally dating someone with such good manners! So this is probably not the last time that'll come up, haha.

Too true! :D Which Bruce still absolutely feels guilty about - but we're not at the point where he'll let on to Clark about that (yet :D).

Thank you so much for both your comments, anon, I'm so glad you're enjoying this!

D: MISSED A DAY. SORRY. I'll try not to let that happen again but can't promise, because this is getting way longer than I'd anticipated.

BUT ANYWAY. Fake dating! \o/ This is a bit of an interlude - the scene I actually had planned from the beginning based on the prompt ... is in the next part. As is actual kissing, I promise.

Bruce doesn't keep the parking brake on forever, of course. After another week, they actually start going on dates.

They also defeat two supervillains, a massive army of cyborgs that comes marching through a dimensional rift over the water between Metropolis and Gotham, and some kind of fast-growing alien fungus that causes vivid and disorienting hallucinations. But the dating is harder to accept as a day-to-day fact of Clark's life. Preventing villainy and destruction is getting increasingly normal. Dating Bruce is—dating Bruce is a lot of things, and none of them are easy to get used to.

Embarrassing, for one. Deeply, deeply awkward. Bruce wasn't kidding: the photographers swarm in the beginning, and there's no avoiding them, though at least they don't actually follow Bruce and Clark inside. The first date is outright terrible—Clark looks incredibly out of place, but he's pretty sure it's not that he picked the wrong suit so much as that he doesn't own a suit that would fit in somewhere like this. Bruce's face says he agrees, and the maître d' is wearing an expression that suggests that Clark's only setting foot inside because everyone knows Bruce Wayne is waiting for him.

Never have so many people so intently watched Clark try to choke down a plate of linguine without getting sauce on his shirt.

(Bruce sends a suit before the next time—well, four of them, actually. Clark's a little afraid to put them on in case he rips something, but they fit as though Bruce had actually had Clark frogmarched to a tailor for them. Clark wonders about this briefly, and then decides that Batman probably has detailed 3-D scans of him and Diana, and leaves it at that.)

"Difficult" would also be accurate, and "complicated" begins to scratch the surface. Bruce Wayne's schedule is, of course, hell—if he weren't so willing to blow off international meetings without notice, they'd probably never go on any dates at all. But Clark can't quite bring himself to be sorry about that one, because—well.

It probably only happens because Bruce is very tired; but the day after the cyborgs, Bruce says offhandedly that he didn't have to be at that meeting with Samsung, and—

"Are you serious?" Clark blurts.

And instead of laughing at him or making some smug remark about what a rube he is, Bruce gives him an unexpectedly thin smile. "I'm an idiot, Clark," he says. "Odds are they'll be glad I'm not there."

He rubs a thumb against his temple and then suddenly laughs, makes a joke—but it's not enough to erase Clark's memory of his face in that one instant. And yeah, Clark kind of thinks Bruce is a sleazeball; but he also knows that Bruce is Batman—that Bruce is physically and mentally skilled in astonishing ways, that he regularly risks his life helping the League take down the biggest threats on the planet. He might be a dick, but that doesn't mean he's foolish, and it definitely doesn't mean he's incompetent.

But everybody else—everybody else has no idea. Everybody else thinks Bruce Wayne actually is just a jackass in a really expensive suit.

And suddenly Clark can't not break into whatever clever offhand remark Bruce is making next to say, "Don't do that."

Bruce breaks off and raises his eyebrows, like he doesn't know what Clark is talking about.

But Clark is suddenly sure that he does, and doesn't relent. "I know better," he adds, looking Bruce in the eye; and Bruce stares at him and draws in a breath, opens his mouth and says—

—nothing, because the car starts to slow, and Bruce turns over his shoulder to lower the barrier and ask the driver a question. But it doesn't matter. Clark knows what he saw.

That date gets interrupted anyway, because halfway through Clark hears someone scream, and then opens up more and is suddenly surrounded by the low roar of the fire that caused it. But even that is—is almost easy: all he has to do is stiffen in his seat, and Bruce's eyes are on him; and he leans in and says, "Bruce," and Bruce waves him off.

"Go," Bruce says, "go on," and then smiles, and it's not the pinched smile from the car but it's not the big gleaming Bruce Wayne one either. "You're supposed to be playing hard-to-get anyway."

And possibly it's the thing that happened in the car that makes Clark say, "I wouldn't play games with you, Bruce. I'm not that kind of girl either." (He gets up and heads for the restroom before Bruce can answer—it's an emergency, after all. And he should be able to speed out the back from there.)

Really, Clark's schedule is the problem almost as often as Bruce's, especially because he can't get out of being Superman the way Bruce can dodge a meeting. And even "complicated" doesn't really do justice to the time they both make it to the restaurant in one piece, Clark actually in the right suit (after Bruce had looked at him last time and sadly muttered, "Hopeless—with that tie you should have worn the midnight blue—"), and then the place promptly gets held up by three extremely angry people with very large guns.

Clark is, of course, invulnerable. But he tries extra hard not to let himself get shot anywhere that night. The best drycleaning in the world won't fix bullet holes; and he—he's starting to think that he liked the look in Bruce's eyes, when Bruce first saw him walk in.

So: dating Bruce is a lot of things. And Clark finds, to his dismay, that one of those things is "amazing". Which is—Clark tries to keep his head on straight (ha), to not let himself get carried away, but it's all so—so much. And it's all so good.

The food is always terrifyingly expensive, which Clark knows because they don't even print the prices on the menus most of the time; but it's also always fantastic. Bruce takes him to places that kind of freak him out on the outside, but once they get in and sit down it's always in some perfect quiet corner booth, some tiny table for two next to a wall so nobody can make an excuse to pass them and sneak photos. And that's not even getting into before the dinners—they go to the ballet, which Clark finds exceptionally beautiful, or a show Clark's pretty sure has been sold out for weeks; or once, totally unprompted, the aquarium, which should almost certainly be beneath Bruce's standards but somehow isn't. ("See?" he says to Clark halfway through, while they're staring, transfixed, at a stargazer's goofy flat face. "You're far from the weirdest thing on this planet.")

Of course, for all Clark knows, Bruce plans things like that, too—deliberately shows up at places with ten-dollar admission in his gazillion-dollar suits, just because he can. That's the kind of thing Bruce does. And he's still slick, glib, too sharp and too bright and always on, on, on, but he's also—he's funny sometimes, quick and wry when Clark least expects it. He's rude, but only to people like him; he never snaps at servers or valets over a spill or a wait. On the fourth date he sends his salad back over some miniscule complaint so many times Clark starts to get uncomfortable—but the tip he leaves that time must add up to at least half the bill. (He tells Clark to head out to the car before he does it; but tinted windows, the breadth of the restaurant, the candlelit dimness, aren't really a match for Superman's vision. The only thing Clark doesn't know is why Bruce didn't want to do it in front of him.) He ladles on the innuendo, of course, and makes remarks that are just this side of lewd, but it's—it's always just enough for Clark to snort at, never so much that Clark wants to get away.

None of it makes Clark want to get away. Somehow, impossibly, it's—it's wonderful, it works. It's better than Clark could ever have thought to imagine; and sometimes afterward, alone in his apartment, he stares at the ceiling with his tie undone and wonders why that thought makes his throat hurt.

No worries, anon, this is MARVELOUS. For starters, thank you so much for Grodd, because what a BRILLIANT CAMEO, LOL FOREVER. :D And I ought not to quote the whole thing, but I am just so delighted with Clark's reactions to every single little thing - to being grabbed, to the cold, to what falling feels like, to Bruce's voice, EVERYTHING, it is ALL SO GREAT. And Clark's faith in Bruce, how unworried he is because he can't help being sure Bruce will be there, my heart. ♥

YOU ARE THE BEST ANON, YOU KNOW THAT? (It is I, creepy braintwin OP who prompts all the things. ;)) I love how terribly awful and awkward their dates are at first (and I honestly wonder what the hell they talked about for however many hours, I'm sure Clark reeeeally enjoyed boring Bruce Wayne Smalltalk ;D). And yay, suit porn! The detailed 3D scans made me cackle. Of course he does. Of course.

But everybody else—everybody else has no idea. Everybody else thinks Bruce Wayne actually is just a jackass in a really expensive suit.
I love Clark's moment of realisation here. And how he still doesn't particularly like Bruce, just thinks "well, he's a jerk, but a brilliant one". ;) And Clark's "I know better", oh my god, that gave me all the feels. <33333333333 And it's such a rare thing for Bruce to be seen, actually seen for who he is. And sdfkbsdfbsd Clark's comment about how he wouldn't play games with Bruce, awwwwwwwwwwww. He's so cute.

and he—he's starting to think that he liked the look in Bruce's eyes, when Bruce first saw him walk in.
Did he now? :D Because dating him is amazing, eh?

And he's still slick, glib, too sharp and too bright and always on, on, on, but he's also—he's funny sometimes, quick and wry when Clark least expects it. He's rude, but only to people like him; he never snaps at servers or valets over a spill or a wait.
I love this description so much. Clark getting to know this public persona of Bruce's while still glimpsing at who he is underneath, how Bruce flirts of course without overdoing it. And then that last line, wow, what an amazing punch in the gut. Of course it hurts, falling a little bit for something Clark knows is just fake, just a game Bruce plays. Not real. And I love how all those surprising feelings don't actually do away with Clark's mild dislike for Bruce's less likable character traits. It's just so beautifully balanced and perfectly in character and YOU ARE THE BEST ANON, HAVE I MENTIONED THAT ALREADY?

Bruce talking to someone about why he didn't have Wayne Manor rebuilt in all this time. Maybe to Alfred who's still hoping he'll change his mind, or to Dick when he comes visiting, or to Clark who wonders why Bruce makes himself drive past that ruin every day.

Just the entire thing about super villains, cyborgs, and trippy fungus being less surreal than dating Bruce made me laugh out loud!

I don't know what gets me the most--Bruce dressing Clark like his own Ken doll or the fact that Bruce failed to realize that he would have to dress Clark like his personal Ken doll since his entire wardrobe fails to meet the dress code of some of the places they're going. :-D

And of course, the simplest explanation for the suits tailored perfectly is surreptitious scans. Which, could actually be the simplest explanation. ;-)

"You're far from the weirdest thing on this planet."

I honestly don't know if it was your intention or not, but I read this and thought it was Bruce trying to be genuine, reassuring and...flirty? Without the trademark Bruce Wayne-ness. :-D But either way, Clark missed it because Alfred never sent him a copy of Overtures of the Emotionally Unavailable/Repressed, so yeah. I just liked that line a lot. :-)

Poor Clark. He's in for a bit of a rough go of it, isn't he?

As always, thank you for sharing this little piece of happy that brightens my day. And no worries, I fully expect the not-so-happy to still brighten my day, too.

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you're enjoying it -- I'm so new to this fandom and this pairing and it's so great to know people are liking it XD

I appreciate it very much! :DDDDDD Let's see how we go tonight...

I know, I don't know why, but Clark being victimised for anything other tahn being Superman is something I love, esp. when it's for being a nosy reporter XD

And thank YOU! I really appreciate you letting me know you're enjoying it, it's so nice :D This fandom is so lovely.

Thank you SO much, nonnie, it really means a lot that you guys are commenting through this, I'm new to this pairing and I'm so great this being being enjoyed XD

*cracks knuckles* A little more to do tonight!

Would really love some Matches Malone/hapless Clark identity porn please! My hunger for Batfleck as Matches knows no bounds!

I like the way you think, nonny. So would Clark know who Matches is or would he have no idea?

MOD! I accidentally didn't change the subject line for this :( Would you mind deleting, so as to save on confusion? Thank you <3

DCEU Prompt Post #1

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (4/??!? help)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (4/??!? help)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (4/??!? help)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (6/?)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (6/?)

Re: Bruce/Clark, supersensitive!Clark, wrecked!Clark

Re: Bruce/Clark, supersensitive!Clark, wrecked!Clark

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (4/??!? help)

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (5/?)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (6/?)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (6/?)

FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (7/?)

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (7/?)

Bruce & Alfred or Dick or Clark, Wayne Manor

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (7/?)

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Two

Matches Malone/Clark, identity porn

Re: Matches Malone/Clark, identity porn

Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Mod!